Thursday, September 29, 2011

fog

 Mysterious hay pile.

Fog seems to be a daily occurrence in CT, but this day it was especially thick. The UConn campus looked like a mideival village.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Scituate liquor store


They unload this van full of neon signs and reload it every day/night. It's like portable advertising for this particular liquor store. It took me a couple of weeks of driving past at different times (on way to/from work, not stalking the liquor store) to realize what was going on.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

more men


No, I didn't arrange then this way.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

lost arrows






These arrows (at an open studio event in several mill buildings) were supposed to help people find their way around the mill to the various artists' open studios. There was nothing not confusing about them but something quite hilarious.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Monday, September 19, 2011

found note


This was on the door to the community center type place downstairs from us.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Lord of the Flies in E. Providence

Actually, just a wrap party ( for Megan and Murray McMillan's new piece) and a very excited little boy throwing wood into a giant outdoor furnace.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Nana turns 93!

Nana is born September 16, 1918. Her mother is 40 years old.
WWI is in full swing. The post office begins airmail service. The flu kills 30 million people. It's a crazy year. 


I am named after my Nana, Rita Helen Langan Lombardi. She calls us Reet and Repeat. 
Here we are lifting/hiding our double chins.

Nana's four children still with us. Peggy, Brother Matthew, Dad (Vince), and Anita.
We miss you Uncle Joe and Uncle Pete!

Me, Nan, Celine

Thursday, September 8, 2011

reflections

I was eating my sandwich when I looked up and saw that my leg had sprouted an arm. Then realized someone was sleeping on my lap. They were inside and I was outside, of course.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

hangers descending

I saw these hangers on the ground and immediately thought of Duchamp's "Nude Descending a Staircase".