I am a visual artist working in collage, assemblage sculpture and altered books. My practice explores identity, memory and the history of the African diaspora. Vintage and contemporary images collide to convey how the past informs the present.


That's part quatre for all you French-speakers out there. Including all ten of you in the US.
One of the pretty lamppost banners on Alberta Street ("Alberta" is cut into the blue piece at the top). The plan was to drive to the arts district in my own car, so I wouldn't be at the mercy of waiting for the shuttle arranged by some of the arts businesses. Why yes, I do like to do things the hard way. So thoughtful of you to notice.

But the shuttle turned out to be such a blessing, and more convenient than my car. (Hell, if I could use a shuttle like that to get to work, the local transit system could spend their advertising money elsewhere.)

My college roomie Wendy, the one I stayed with before my first A&S class, came over to visit. On her way in, she saw that my car had a serious flat, and the tire pressure of another one seemed questionable. AAA rode to the rescue, but got held up by -- whoops -- the Portland Marathon traffic. But Wendy, the sweetheart that she is, didn't mind 'cause we got plenty of time to hang out together. (We haven't seen each other in person since I got married four years ago. Oy.) So we took the shuttle anyhow, which appeared right when we were ready and was dispatched by phone when we wanted to go back to the hotel.

The shuttle dropped us at Collage first...

I'm sorry, got a little contact high just thinking about the store.

The shuttle dropped us there, and oooh... so many delicious options packed in such a small place. Wendy had to wait outside after a while, because the high concentration of small things to look at, combined with the old-building smell (which I happen to like), was kind of overwhelming. I zeroed in on some Interference Violet from Golden, which I needed after learning how to play with it in Michael deMeng's class Friday. Makes me want to be in two places at the same time, so I can paint and blog simultaneously.

Poppy and Ivy was next door, and while I thought many things were cute or even laugh-out-loud, I didn't really click there. Until I saw the Bacon-Flavored Mints. Any shop that stocks something as nasty-rageous as that gets my vote. No, I didn't get them for myself. I got them to inflict on The Husband, who as you will see appreciates the glories of bacon. (The mens, they like it when you show them you're thinking of them even when wandering about in an art-shopping-induced haze.)

And then we bumped into Ricë and Earl, who took a very cool picture of a little sidewalk graffiti that I had to have for myself too:Now that I think about it, I should incorporate that into the book I'm working on. More about that in the next post.

The rest of the jaunt was pleasant but unremarkable... observing the kids hanging out Being Cool, keeping an eye out for curious and fascinating shops as well as remembering to dodge dog poop, nothing you wouldn't have to do in any other urban area. (To the ladies who were expecting a less-unvarnished Art Experience: come on... it's an art district, not Pottery Barn.) Unremarkable -- until the heavens opened up and released all the water floating above the Pacific Northwest. Damn, we got soaked! And denim feels really good when your legs are the main heat source to dry out your jeans. Oh yeah, baby.

But we really did have a great time together, and then I rejoined Ricë and Earl for a drawing class. I was ready for my bed by the time I tumbled in, so tired I didn't even have time to get cranky about the state of my hair, or worry about the next day's class. Big emotional to-do expected... in the next post. A cliffhanger -- bwah hahaha!!!

Art & Soul -- series finale

Art & Soul -- celebrity edition