cycloid sally

Brunch at the Universal with Chain and Forager Girl. Harry and Barris showed up when we were about halfway through breakfast ( noyummy yummy jook, but I was really hungry and I had eggs over easy instead). I told Barris about my envelope full of invitations and he was quite concerned, so I ran back to the apartment and got it for him. He and Harry perused each and every one of them, turning them over and over and squinting at them in the light. Looking for watermarks? Why would there be watermarks on that kind of thing?
Anyway, Barris confirmed that none of them was a legitimate call for entries and said that a lot of the independent artists – he meant me! – were getting them. Forager Girl said she got some too. Then Barris asked if he could look at her work so we all got into Barris’s car, which is not big enough for five people – the back seat isn’t really meant for people, or at least not for grownups – but we managed. And so I got to see Forager Girl’s work.
She lives with a couple of uptight hipsters, wannabes who can’t figure out if they wannabe yuppies or wannabe bohos. But she gets the biggest room in the apartment and that’s actually where she works. Barris said she shouldn’t do that because of toxicity but she just shrugged. What do you expect from a person who eats the botanical equivalent of roadkill?
Well, her work. What can I say? We’re sisters. I think her stuff is slightly more edgy, and my stuff is slightly more complex, but we’re on a similar path, I think.
He gave her the same offer as me, and said we might consider a joint show, which makes sense to me.

Forager Girl and I had a great day. We cooked lunch with the stuff she brought and it was fine, though odd, and I of course augmented it with noodles. I showed her what I was working on and some notes for some other stuff I’ve been thinking about and she asked all the right questions and gave me really useful critique. It was like drinking water on a really hot day, like hanging with Barris Mackey when he’s not going on and on about factions and politics. My next day off, or sooner if I don’t get one soon enough (fooey on Hugo), I’ll go to her place and look at her stuff. When she finally had to go I walked her down to the lobby and Harry met us there and made one of his usual remarks. He was really interested in the Cambodian piecework on one of her shoulder bags.

I want to go back and re-read everything I’ve ever seen about dynamic symmetry.

In other news, I’m getting weird mail. The kind of thing like those ads urging you to get some kind of credit card (Chain always talks me out of those and it’s annoying because I’d really like to use plastic now and then). But they’re not: they’re solicitations for art competitions, juried shows, and stuff like that. How did I get on those mailing lists? They’re so weird, not like the kind of letter you’d expect to get from galleries or foundations or schools or whatever – they look just like those credit card letters. Including the sticker that says “Yes” and the sticker that says “No.”
Chain says I should throw them away but I’ve been stuffing them in an envelope to show to Barris Mackey whenever I see him again.