Why is this man shooting his dinner?

Because for dealers at SOFA some of the most memorable experiences happened off the show floor.

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I’ve honestly forgotten how many times we’ve attended the Pilchuck Glass School Auction, but I think it’s been about fifteen in the last sixteen years.

Just Looking. Dan feeling alone together while drinking away his resolve to pinch pennies…

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Every year the same Bullseye people who build the furnaces, ladle the glass, pack the crates, teach the classes, stock the shelves, and answer the phones put together my favorite exhibition: Working Glass.

“Untitled” got my vote: a pair of over-sized pink nuts. From a young woman in the maintenance department.

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I was warned.

They told me that that I’d run out of babble; that I’d get bored with my own writing; that no one would comment (unless I picked a fight); that some ITiot would switch me over to different blog software and I’d have to learn a New Trick (just kidding, Chris)…etc etc.

My own special gray soup. A bit like Dunbeath harbor when the haar rolls in…

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Jiri Harcuba and April Surgent

A visit last week to the Hockney on Turner exhibition at the Tate Gallery reminded me of why I love to hear artists talk on the work of other artists. The perspectives are visceral.

“You can sense his arm moving. You can feel his body responding” is how Hockney reflects on Turner’s watercolor sketches.
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