mas nonsense

Signed the completed edition of Clutch y Frenos this trip. Looking forward to exhibiting Mexico imagery back home, plus at the Ex-Colegio in March. The fine folks at the Jesuita are amazing. I've been creating lots of new pics and finished prototypes for two new nonsense books. And mucho commercial gigs fuel my late night explorations hither and yonder. They also provide fuel for my Honda which we'll be pointing north in a couple of weeks.

la mujer de las cucharas

Sketchbook's hemorrhaging...in desperate need of a tourniquet or duct tape. Gas Express started up just before 7am, beating my alarm by minutes but bested by the roosters. Hundreds of roosters. My neighbor's duck is quacking and a collectivo just drove by. Guinness is sitting on the tiny balcony outside my studio barking at the passerby walking to work or buying pan dulces across the street. Looking east towards Morelia, the mountain is being swallowed by an enormous cloud and the morning's kitchen fires make the whole world smell like piñón. My feet are cold, so I'm headed downstairs for socks, more coffee, and if I have change...maybe a sensible donut.

iglesia

Sketchbook's gettin' fat, heavy and sticky.

Hojalateria y Pintura

Trying my best to fill this damn sketchbook before I get home. Among other things. Mashing together my past and present, what I've seen with what I'm seeing, what I've made with what I'm making. Think I carved that squirrel in the ninth grade. Figure it all out when I get home, maybe. Sure would like to hang that Vulka tire I found on my walk yesterday, above my drawing table. And that tooth-like Clutch y Frenos sign parked near La Guera on the Libramiento...next to it. A beauty. Funny listening to RVU on itunes down here, typing this with dried gel medium on my fingers.

smokin'

Brrr, it’s super chilly on my rooftop watching fireworks exploding over the Estribo while smoking a Cuban cigar. Reminds me of shooting Chinese bottle rockets from Coca-Cola bottles to celebrate the fourth when I was a kid, and of shooting Roman candles at each other in Donelson. Of sparklers and Black Cat firecrackers, and of Jimmy Fleming smoking one once. He said it had a cool mellow taste until it blew his lips off…right in front of us. Jimmy used to eat frozen French fries and dog biscuits to impress us, I guess. His brother David once sold my dad an Elk rack for a quarter. Tonight I’m drawing beer bottles, frogs playing guitars, cuckoo clocks, and bras hanging from tv antennas, while Becky’s recovering downstairs reading Hardcore Troubadour. I’ve been reading Murakami this summer, and the summer’s tunes have largely consisted of Jeanette “Baby” Washington, Barbara Lynn, Sonny Burgess, Memphis Slim, Fern Jones, and Paul Burch. And of course the rockin’ tunes of Gas Express and Gas del Lago competing for my business early. A dog’s howling a screechy weird howl next door and the rain is settling in for the evening. I’m shuttin’ down soon because my cigar is almost down to its band but not before the end of Femme L’a Dit. On second thought, maybe I’ll scribble some more, then brush my teeth.

Santa Ana

Today around 11:30 am there was a knock at the door, just as we were finishing Becky's amazing French toast made with Ibo's life enhancing bread, and Guinness barked like mad. Nothing new there. Becky answered the door, and it was Silvia. "We'd like to invite you to Artemio's birthday party this afternoon. You can be late." We showed up around 5:30 just as the band started up. Lots of great folks in attendance at Pat and Vero's beautiful home. Dogs, kids making art, and everyone dancing on wooden boards. More please.

contraseña

More experimental collageness at 4am.

amigas

Woke up early this morning thinking about all the friends we’ve enjoyed this summer. Dear friends, Jane Braddock and Carol Mode visited us for a week, and we had too much fun exploring, talking, shopping and eating. Jane woke up each morning to the loud, recorded jingles of competing propane companies blasting throughout our neighborhood. I’d find her reading downstairs surrounded by the smell and sounds of coffee brewing. We’d sit and chat about the sights and sounds of Mexico then I’d usually walk across our newly cobbled street to buy pastries or bolillos or huevos for breakfast. Most days we’d all get out and explore Patzcuaro while other days we’d just hang out at the house, cooking or piddling. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning, Becky, Jane, Carol and Susan walked down to Plaza Grande for Tai Chi with Bob, while I stayed in and worked on a commercial gig. One day we hired Ulysses, a local healer, to give everyone massages while it rained outside. I haven’t had many professional massages so it was a real treat to have the tips of my fingers and toes given so much attention. And face and back, and my head in a towel sling rocked back and forth followed by a stretch and pop of the spine. All was well and I was feeling healed with my face facedown in the donut thingey. Until the donut fell unexpectedly… along with my face. Luckily, I didn’t suffer any major damage, and the healer apologized. Then, after some realignment I tried to relax by thinking about the rain, trying to separate its sound from that of water trickling from our courtyard fountain...then, Bam! Again! I think I chipped a tooth. So much for relaxation and trust. All gone. I spent the next half hour tense and nervously awaiting the next drop. Actually, the massage was pretty great and I am definitely less toxic. Other highlights from our friends’ visit included: a visit with Didier at Real Aduana, a drive to Santa Clara del Cobre, listening to Becky and Jane in the back seat practicing dirty phrases in Spanish, dinner at the EcoHotel, Andy's birthday party with plastic wrestlers on his cake, dinner at Bob & Rosa’s with five virgos, and a beautiful Thai meal prepared by Jane (she traveled here with her own jar of chili paste). Seems like we were always eating and/or talking about food. I enjoyed sharing my red book with Carol one afternoon, and talking about art, teaching, and her upcoming trip to London. We explored the town together, as couples, and in threes...Patzcuaro’s funky bumpy, cobbled streets proved to be an excellent excuse to hold hands. Everyone traveled home safely with their treasures, so now we’re anticipating a reunion in Nashville and tasty meals on colorful tablecloths.