February 2, 2009

1960s Silver, 1970s Brown

Here you are, a drawing that tells you a story. Details I can add to the written notes:
  • The San Francisco I was in was vintage 1960s, like daytime Hitchcock,
  • The fellow who picked up the lady from Berlin on his motoscoot was also wearing a very sparkly, giant, bulbous silver helmet,
  • A fight between me and Monique is hardly a fight at all. We negotiated quite amicably for the el-cheapo Chanel pumps.
  • In real life, I stay the heck away from shoes that have a "pin-up" vibe.
This was essentially a dream pitting the sixties and the seventies against each other, style-wise. I chose the sixties, determinedly, but I admit that I felt seduced by the wispy women exemplifying the stray, brown, sharper image of the 1970s in the dream.

There was much more to this dream (such as a sub-plot taking place in a log cabin) but I can tell you nothing more. Subject matter not fit for public consumption.

What I Did Last Summer



Quite obviously, I have been ignoring this blog. I have had this drawing to post since July 16, 2008.

I no longer remember the dream that surrounded these shoes, I mean, I don't remember who was in it, where I was or why I was dreaming about these shoes. I am trying to reconstruct the memory, but I think the storage facility for dreams in one's brain is more like an antechamber than the ballroom where all lived memories gather. (I like thinking of my memories at a raucous shin-dig, with music blasting.)

One aspect of these shoes that I notice is their openness. Each one has a part missing--how Foucaultian! (Funny word...like "Mancunian" for someone from Manchester.) They display a particular absence, either in the heel, the toe or the vamp. Curious that the cut-away parts are at the start, middle and end of each shoe.

I don't think it means anything.

It was summer.

My feet were probably too hot.

Hence the crinkly, distressed gold foil leather.