I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!





The food was excellent, but this was my favorite part of the holiday...

Jeanne-Claude: 1935-2009

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit the Smithsonian American Art Museum's highly nondescript warehouse where art is stored and staged for upcoming exhibitions. Each time I visit I am excited by the feeling that I am truly behind-the-scenes. But yesterday was a particularly special day because I was there to see the drawings that Christo made in his preparations for the Running Fence.

I have been working with the digitized drawings for months now, as I have been designing the exhibition catalogue that will accompany our show, Christo and Jeanne-Claude: Remembering the Running Fence, but there is always a feeling of surprise and exhilaration when I first see the actual work. Typically I am shocked by the size... Inevitably, my expectations were for something either much smaller or much larger. Then the moment shifts as I accept what is before me, and forget all about my preconceived notions.

One by one, we viewed 47 drawings. They ranged from pieces that were 8' wide by 3' high to pieces that were a mere 11" by 9". The time spent was quiet and intimate, as I took careful note of the colors of each work, in preparation for being on press in January.

When I got home yesterday, I felt revived by having spent time with actual artwork. Because the publication designers spend so much time in front of a computer, it's easy to forgot why we are doing what we are doing.

And then, this afternoon, I opened my email box to see a new message titled Jeanne-Claude Obituary. Naturally, I was speechless. This was completely unexpected. Last night, Jeanne-Claude died of complications from a brain aneurysm.

It's true that I'd never met Jeanne-Claude, but for quite some time I have been hearing stories about her and Christo, reading essays that are to be published in our catalogue, and working with hundreds of photographs that include images of Jeanne-Claude and Christo as they worked to create the Running Fence in the 1970s. It's been understood from the start that what I am doing now has been for them.

And now, even more so.

Read more here.

Moving into a new place often means inheriting the previous owners' oddities. For us, it was lavender walls, a completely black garage studio, mystery holes in the ceiling, and a plank of wood attached to the very top of a tree with a bungee cord. (The list is actually much longer, but I'll spare you.)

Slowly, we are tackling each project and putting our own stamp on things.

This weekend, it was leaves and climbing trees.

"It was Aunt Lovey's belief that all ordinary people led extraordinary lives, but just didn't notice."

I haven't posted a blog entry not because I don't try to think of something to say each and every day, but because I just can't find the extraordinary in my life. I'm sure if you got me on the phone, I could chatter away, but when I sit down to write, life seems so ordinary.

Quote from Lori Lansens' novel The Girls.