Slow Saturday

Thanksgiving is done. Piles of leftovers we have to chip through. It was a nice gathering and people stayed, sitting and talking, mixing the groups for a good while. Note to self: three turkey breasts were fine (2 cut, one for show); make refrigerator potatoes the day before...I forget that you need to be a minor Hindu deity in order to cut the turkey, make the gravy and mash the potatoes all at once. If I really had my stuff together, I would make a turkey the week before (and freeze the meat) holding out the drippings to make the gravy in advance and then zap. It all came together from an "everything on the table and hot at once" but that is the hat trick...not all the cooking that the world exclaims over. There were closet left overs brought to K, dog biscuits and a coat to Shady Grove and chocolates, wine, flowers, pies--a wealth brought as presents to us. Spoiled!

Speaking of spoiled, I got a brand new set of Maimeri Blu (italian), 24 color/ 1/2 pan set (cheaper at Dick Blick) which the above doodle manifests. It has been said the these paints are very fine...and I wanted to try something really good versus the set I bought of Pelikan colors inspired by Anita Kunz's demonstration at Syracuse (she uses Pelikan and as she says "a cheap brush"). So note, that it isn't the media but the muscle behind it. I like the way these colors move, the nice saturation. More doodling around before I commit to anything.

Gotta go. Plans afoot to see a movie (Synechdoche, NY --the new Philip Seymour Hoffman, art flick at Cinemopolis):

"To say that Charlie Kaufman’s SYNECHDOCHE, NY is one of the best films of the year or even one closest to my heart is such a pathetic response to its soaring ambition that I might as well pack it in right now. That at least would be an appropriate response to a film about failure, about the struggle to make your mark in a world filled with people who are more gifted, beautiful, glamorous and desirable than the rest of us — we who are crippled by narcissistic inadequacy, yes, of course, but also by real horror, by zits, flab and the cancer that we know (we know!) is eating away at us and leaving us no choice but to lie down and die.

"Yet since this is a review of a new Charlie Kaufman work, perhaps I should hit rewind: SYNECHDOCHE, NY is the first film directed by the writer of such unlikely Hollywood entertainments as 'Being John Malkovich,' 'Adaptation' and 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,' a romance of such delicate feeling that it’s still a shock that it carries a studio brand. Mr. Kaufman’s kinked, playful screenplays are usually accompanied by a flurry of 'e' adjectives: eclectic, eccentric, edgy, eggheady. (Also: quirky.) That’s true only if you consider the contemporary American screen, with its talking Chihuahuas and adult male babies with mother fixations. Come to think of it, the main character in SYNECHDOCHE has a thing about poop and bosomy women, though happily not at the same time.

Now that that is done, onward to Christmas and Monday! Maybe more piddling with paints and working with my whale..later today. Everyone tapping their foot waiting for mommy to get on, jacket on (do I have my right glasses? keys? cash?). Gotta go.