Archive for November, 2019

Tomorrow morning I leave the land of enchantment ending my holiday. Today was filled with gallery hopping with Cindi and P-Bear, one of my hosts. Saw stunning art all day including the heiress’ new series of photos at a gallery on Canyon Road. We got caught in a thunderstorm which lead to small hail, followed by sleet, and then snow. All of this happened in a span of ten minutes. Speaking of raining, spending time in Santa Fe is like walking into a strip club and making in rain with dollar bills. The exception being that one needs $20 bills in Santa Fe. Everything one does seems to cost multiples of twenty. A simple lunch is $20. Dinner is $40 or $60. A quick stop at the grocery store is $60. One can burn through money at a rapid pace here. And then there’s the price of art. It’s not uncommon to see $100k works of art, or sculpture nearing $1m. It’s hard to find art under a grand unless it’s small drawing. There’s a lot of art in $2,500 to $7,500 range. This is to be expected for an international art mecca. The target market is the wealthy, but looking is free. The beauty and sometimes funky charm of Santa Fe is free. The mountain vistas and ever changing colors of the desert are inspiring and also free. My memories of time spent in Santa Fe are priceless. As are my friendships. I look forward to creating more memories on my next visit.

Linda Stojack, untitled (figure 102), oil on canvas, 72 x 60, $44,000, Lew Allen Galleries.

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Dinner for Eight

Thanksgiving in Santa Fe started with snow and ended with rain. It was a most enjoyable day. We had lively conversations which stayed clear of any topic remotely connected to the current political landscape in the United States. The dinner was not moved to accommodate Cindi’s friend. Sadly, this morning, the friend fell ill with a stomach virus. She texted a cancellation along with wishes for a happy day. I’m not sure if she was actually sick, or just used illness as an excuse to stay home with her dog. The party of eight had a great time. The menu was pared down this year. Everyone ate sensibly. Nobody overate which seemed to be a theme at previous dinners. The liquor flowed all day. Pre-dinner cocktails with caviar started the feast. Wine was served with dinner. Champaign flowed with dessert. After dinner liquors ended the evening around the fireplace. It was a most memorable day spent with good friends who have become my adopted family.

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Dinner Drama

I’ve been spending the last few Thanksgivings in Santa Fe with friends. Only one friend has family in Santa Fe but she skips the family dinner her mother hosts at the Four Seasons. The dinners are drama free as we don’t have to skirt around family dynamics, or put up with the relative with radically different political views. That how is it has been for until this year.

The guys are hosting dinner again this year. Dinner was planned for eight people. The time was agreed upon. The menu was planned. Then Cindi invited a friend who is known by all but operates in a secondary orbit to other guests. Cindi’s friend has an elderly dog with special needs. The friend has asked for dinner to be pushed two hours later because of her dog’s needs. This has caused a tiff between the guys and Cindi. The guys don’t want to move the dinner time and Cindi thinks they are not being reasonable for accommodating her friend.

I love Cindi dearly but I’m siding with the guys. Cindi’s friend is asking eight other people to change their plans because of her dog’s needs, which by the way, have never been explained. Cindi’s friend accepted a dinner invitation so I feel she should not ask the hosts to move the dinner time. If your dog’s needs are that important, I feel you should decline the invitation and find someplace else to eat dinner.

Santa Fe is a small town. There’s no reason this woman can’t have dinner and leave to attend to her dog. She can return after her dog is cared for to have desert. I’m sure the desert course can be pushed an hour.

What do you think?

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Wearing it Well

I hit the gym after work yesterday. I had a great work out which included 30 minutes of cardio. After the gym, I rustled together a dinner of leftover roasted chicken and vegetables. I set my alarm and hit the bed for a 30 minute nap. When the alarm went off, I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. My bed felt so good and I was exhausted. I almost decided to skip the art tour and go back to sleep but I had made commitments to see the show Brenda curated, and to stop by to see Sharon and Mai Wyn. I also wanted to see Walter Barton’s show at pirate. After a few minutes of indecision, I rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom to shower. I pulled myself together leaving the house a short time later.

It was a most rewarding art tour even though I was still felt fatigued. Oddly, I had three people tell me how good I looked last night. I must wear exhaustion well.

Here are two of my favorite pieces from the art tour. These pricey paintings (topping out at $30k) were at the opening at the William Havu Gallery.

Jivan Lee, Monument #5 – Sunrise Spectrum, oil on linen, 68 x 50

Jivan Lee, Monument #1 – Morning Rhythms, oil on panel, 30 x 24.

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Another Break Up

My neighbor, Mrs. P., was walking her dog by my house on Sunday while I was working in the yard. Mrs. P. stopped to chat. After the standard greetings, Mrs. P. told me things were not well. I sensed she needed to chat so I put down my pruners before asking if she was okay. Mrs. P. is a successful real estate agent in her late forties while her husband is a 51-year-old investment banker. Mrs. P. told me her husband moved out of the house last month. Mr. P. is now living with his 27-year-old girlfriend. He refused to go to counseling to work on their issues. Mr. P. has filed for divorce. Mrs. P. called it a midlife crisis. I’m not sure what I would call it, but in the last year, Mr. P. has bought and sold a series of high end SUVs. He finally settled on a Porsche Cayenne Turbo S.

Mr. P. is a hot man who rarely misses a day at the gym. He has a physique worthy of a fitness magazine cover. He’s very handsome with piercing blue eyes. In recent history, I noticed that Mr. P. would grab his crotch when I would have conversations with him. I thought it was odd behavior but decided he had jock itch as a result of working out too much. I suspect he would play on both sides of the fence, but, I would never go down that path with a married neighbor.

I commiserated with Mrs. P. for a while. Mrs. P. told me she is devastated. She thought she would grow old with her husband. I told her I felt the same way about K. I shared some details of my break up with Mrs. P. I told her it would get better, but, it may get worse before it gets better. Mrs. P. seemed to be in better spirits when our conversation ended. I gave her hug. Mrs. P. suggested having a drink sometime. I’m not sure if she really wanted to get together for a drink, or if she was simply using one of the standard statements that is often tendered in conversations in my neighborhood. Perhaps I’ll see if she wants to join the art tour on Friday night

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Friday Night Art

Friday night turned out to be more about socializing than art. I only made it to two openings as I kept running into friends. Conversations ruled the night. After the galleries, I had a late dinner with Miss Y and Miss H. Here are some of my favorites from the new exhibition at Walker Fine Art.

Peter Illig, Night at Yoshiware, oil on wood, panel, 24 x 42.

Mark Penner Howell, Jack in the Box, acrylic and color pencil on wood panel, 41 x 31.

Sabin Aell, Wanderlust 4, mixed media, 25 x 20.

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Office Drama

My boss demeaned a female peer this morning. Sadly, I was a witness. It was early so there were only three of us in the office. My boss (I hate calling him that because I operate autonomously and his only purpose is to approve my contract and invoices for payment) initiated a conversation about the local election results. He has a habit of bringing up political issues, which, in my opinion, should not be discussed in the office. He stated that if you voted for a certain ballot initiative, you were stupid. The woman stood up and told my boss she voted for the initiative. She took offense to his comment. There was a short back and forth before the conversation ended. About five minutes later he brought up the ballot initiative again. The woman asked him to let it go. He continued. She told him to let go again. My boss apologized but it was too late. The woman accepted the apology before heading to a meeting. After her meeting, she thanked my boss for apologizing but went on to tell him it was unacceptable to call people stupid for having a different opinion. She told him if he did it again she would report him to HR. Not ever wanting to lose a battle, my boss said it would only result in a slap on the wrist, but, he wouldn’t do it again.

Big fucking mistake. She scheduled a meeting with her boss. She sent me an email recapping the event and asked me to reply. If the Me Too movement, the resent Special Council investigation and the impeachment transcripts have taught us anything, it’s the need to document the experience when it’s fresh and gather witnesses.

I replied to the email stating her summation of the conversation was as I recalled. I applaud this woman for calling out my boss on his behavior. Sadly, this is not first time she has had to call him out for statements he has made. This is the first time she was directly insulted. My boss is clueless when it comes to social mores. He has no social graces. It a miracle he has ascended to the position he holds.

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A Private Concert

I met up with Miss Y. (formerly Mrs. L.) last night for the art tour. We hit the closing party at the Art Gym in east Denver to start off the night. Nude vs. Naked included the works of Michael Dowling, Brenda LaBier and Noah Sodano. Our next stop was the Sandra Phillips Gallery in the Golden Triangle for the opening of Tom Linker and Cassandra Lilllard: The Nature of Abstraction. It’s a nice, but small, show. I especially liked Tom’s abstracts. Our next stop was Walker Fine Art to check out a concert by a band which consisted of four members, two of which are artists who be up at bat at Walker’s opening next Friday. It was like attending a private concert as there were only a few patrons in attendance. It was First Friday so crowds were over on Santa Fe Drive for the art crawl. The band’s songs were a mix of ethereal and rock and roll. They played well but the cavernous gallery space did not help acoustically. After the band’s first set, we called it a night. I dropped Miss Y. off at her car and headed home to finish the night with Netflix.

Doug Haeussner, Infusion, pigment print on birch panel, 36 x 48, Walker Fine Art.

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