Haven't felt like writing much lately, in case you haven't noticed. Needed to go into that other mind zone, the wordless one. But all is well. Jack and I had Christmas Eve dinner with his kids, Blake and Emerald (Will is still fairly incommunicado, performing in Paris).
Alas, we forgot to take any pictures of ourselves OR our crab cakes from Drewe's Meat Market (divine), the scrumptiously healthy salad, the tasty Masa rice dappled with carrots, a loaf of sourdough Pugliese, Pinot Grigio...or the Hagen Daaz vanilla ice cream heaped with fresh raspberries and blueberries, plus a plate of chocolate chip cookie. Yikes. Too good.
Emerald is doing fantastically in NYC, working now as a personal assistant to someone high up in the "Coach" merchandising world. She's learning learning learning, because her boss is a kind and generous man who goes out of his way to show her the ropes, take her to interesting business meetings, and just generally do anything he can to help her climb the rungs of a fledgling career ladder. Not bad for a young twenty-something fresh out of Parsons School of Design.
Blake moved to Detroit (yes, Michigan) four months ago and is LOVING it. He lives only ten minutes away from downtown Detroit, but his neighborhood looks sylvan-beautiful-rural. It's poor and rundown, true -- many abandoned houses, some burned down -- but his block is filled with other young artist types who have banded together in a coop'ish way, blending various visual art forms and music. They bought an abandoned house down the road for $1 and turned it into a gallery. Had their first show a couple of weeks ago; around 60 people showed up. Not bad, I'd say. Blake hooked up with a man who recently invented a way to make emergency signs glow in the dark (ie. signs in hospitals), and they're working on perfecting and marketing this invention. I probably am not describing this correctly, but somehow it fits in really nicely with Blake's background in screenprinting.
Jack is between big jobs, having just finished making the TREBLE CLEF ornament that goes over the front door of the Great Plotnik's house -- the final piece de la resistance, perfect for a musician, no?
And now that the Writing Salon website is finally up and running again, I have slowed down enough to get out with the camera once more, walking along with you-know-who, savoring San Francisco's magnificent feast of November and December leaves. I have to rev it up again soon, back to work and all of that, but until then, here's...