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.

Barris Mackey was at the Universal Café! And he paid for breakfast (yummy yummy jook, but Harry and Barris had huge plates of sausage and fried eggs and pancakes and and and). But they wouldn't talk about art. They kept talking about factions, and I tried to be a good girl and pay attention because who knows? someday maybe I won't be working in isolation, I'll have a whole "school" of mixed media artists that I belong to, and maybe this political stuff might become relevant. But it was boring. At least something concrete came out of it. Barris said if I wanted to have a show, to put together a new portfolio and call him -- and he gave me his number! -- and he'd introduce me around. He said under no circumstances was I to allow myself to be patronized before I had another public show, and especially not to take commissions from random people who seemed to know more than they ought to be able to. I guess Harry told him about that woman who keeps coming to the bookstore. She hasn't been back in a while and frankly I'd sort of forgotten about the intriguing cylinder project. For a minute there I felt like the naughty little girl who tried to get the liquor down from the top shelf.
So but that was good. That was not bad. That was an offer to get me a show when I have enough new work. I asked him how many pieces it took to make a portfolio and he said "I don't think you're going to like this, but it all depends." And then he laughed. "No, really, but you should have at least ten in your portfolio, and at least six of the pieces should be really new work."
That will keep me busy for months.
Work was work. A few quaint individuals, but nothing to get excited about. Found The Secrets of the Masters on the wrong shelf again, so I took some time to read it for a while.
After I got home I found a message from Forager Girl. I wish she had a real name. Forager Girl sounds like something out of a precious fantasy story, the kind with mystical sex in it. She was at Wednesday Wanderings last night, and she spent the whole time drawing these cool patterns. She said they were notes about what Harry was saying about universal symmetry, but I didn't get those from what he said. I didn't get much. I said so, and Harry, who was slouching around nearby, said that was a good thing and I should cultivate it. I said, "what, not getting things?" And he said yes.
Forager Girl and I are getting together tomorrow, when I am not working. I don't think Hugo has noticed that he has me working six days on a good week, seven sometimes, and only two days off in a row every month and a half. Or maybe he has and is playing dumb so he doesn't have to hire more help. That's probably it: my paycheck was way more than I expected again last time and when I tried to get him to fix it he said it was too much trouble and he'd take it out of some other check. The last time he said that he never did.
Note to self: remember to ask how come Monkey’s called that instead of a normal name.

I'm going to try spray fixative in a matte finish.
The Wheel of Things is almost done.
Harry told me to get him up for breakfast tomorrow and take him to the Universal. I think I'm supposed to pay. Well, he is an old guy with no visible means of support, so I guess it will not harm me to buy him breakfast at the Universal.
Tonight, Wednesday Wanderings again.

Barris Mackey was at the Universal but I couldn't hang out because I was due at work. He said he'd try to drop by the store but he didn't show. But he said hello to me, which means he remembers me, and that's something. Maybe he knows the answer to my problem with The Book of Crinkly Things.

If I cut the bags perfectly and feed them one at a time I can print on them, but it still looks like crap.
I've been passing by the Universal every day in case Barris Mackey is there. But he never is. I guess he doesn't come into the City all that much, after all.
I saw this guy out on the street today -- I swear he was that biker guy from the street fair. I'm seeing these weirdos all over the place now. I guess it's a small world. I know it's a small City, as Cities go.