This one is another belated blog.  It's hard to have regular blog updates on the road!


After dropping Davis and Joy off at the airport, I was fortunate enough to have another (hungry) dancer friend left in the city.  Dan introduced me to D's dogs and Steve Reich (link at bottom).  Between the cheese-coverered veggie dog and fries (both were cheese covered) with non-disgusting root beer and the microwavable chicken sandwich from the bus-station "restaurant", I whiled the hours away with phasing pianos and this guy, done in pencil from a photo in a magazine:

My apologies- this blog entry isn't chonological.  Right before BluesShout, I spent a week in Pittsburgh, PA, watching epic Dr. Mario battles, hiding from potential tornados, striving for sibilance, and engaging in social art.  While the first few days were cold and gray, the weekend was startlingly beautiful; Joy, Davis, and I set out in search of a kite and frisbee, to take advantage of a charming Saturday afternoon.  As we found out in the aisle of Kmart, however, neither Joy nor I can catch, or throw.  So much for the frisbee.  And they don't sell kites at Kmart, aparently.  So, without an appropriately sports-like activity, we turned to the next best classic: sidewalk chalk.  The results are as follows.

Davis serenades us with his mandolin. (My first piece of "art" is the flower/hummingbird in the foreground)

It turns out, Joy has a way with kids.  

Suddenly, we're a social art project.

Good thing we bought the 50-pack, instead of the 3-pack!

I'm more comfortable with chalk than children.

Joy gets comandeered into a portrait.

Even I get a portrait done.  Looks just like me, right?

No, this is no metaphor for surviving change in my life.  No drama here, unless you count color and composition.  Cid and I went to the Philly Art Museum yesterday.  If you've never been, get on it!  It's reasonably priced (less than a movie), and huge.  We both walked away pretty inspired, so after a night of dinner boggle, and dance videos, we made art.  He wrote poetry, and I made this guy.

Nope, not Fitzgerald.  LMNOP, the otter-cowherding-silverfaced dog I'm living with for the short-term.  She doesn't actually look like this.