New Work: Underground #1

Underground #1, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 36" x 24"

New Work: Splinter

Splinter, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Gessoboard, 10" x 10" each panel

Crossings

Crossings, 2003, acrylic on 2 canvas panels, 36" x 36" each panel

Monarch

Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/richardwc/1013487634/

When I was very young and growing up in Cuba, I used to spend a lot of time in the yard around my family's beach house where there were many "exotic" flowering plants, fruit trees and lots and lots of critters. There was one bush with bunches of red flowers that if you pulled the central filament, you'd be rewarded with a drop of sweet nectar at its end. On another flowering tree, the blooms popped from bud to flower if they were even slightly touched. It was on these trees that I would collect most of the caterpillars for one of my favorite childhood hobbies. I asked my godfather to make me a wire cage with a top on it. I would fill it with the caterpillars' favorite leafed branches and place a couple of the larvae inside. I would watch them build their cocoons and metamorphosize into beautiful (mostly) monarch butterflies. Once they were ready to take flight, I would open the top and set them free. Such hard work, I thought, with such spectacular results.

Here's a link to a song I recently found, titled Monarch, with fitting lyrics. Close your eyes and turn the sound up. Visualize.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpP4GojN8uA

Bending Steel With Paint by Asandra Lamb

http://http://www.examiner.com/x-24002-Spiritual-Guidance-Examiner~y2009m11d5-Bending-steel-with-paint

Go see this: Diem Chau @ G. Gibson Gallery

Diem Chau, Red Slippers, 2009

http://www.ggibsongallery.com

October 15 - November 21

So Many Questions

Sunset from my balcony, October 7, 2009

I watch a lot of TV shows on the Science and Discovery channels when I'm not obsessing over serial killers on True TV. I have seen so many shows about "the big bang" that my mind now starts to wander and wonder about nothing. The concept of nothing, that is, as in before there was anything; before the big bang. It hurts my head, and I must be a bit masochistic to try to wrap my simple little head around the concept since I know I'll never fully grasp it. I take solace in the fact that most people don't.
Some people don't believe in the big bang at all. To them, God created everything!
OK...ummmm...who created God? Did He big-bang himself into existence? Since we were supposedly created in God's image, I have questions about that too, for example: Did God poof-appear as an adult or was there a baby-God first. Baby-God would of course be able to feed Himself and change His own poopy diapers unless He created some ready made adults to take care of His needs as He grew up. I then wonder what God was like in His terrible two's and during those all too awkward teenage years. Of course I don't know what sort of upbringing God would have had since that sort of thing often depends on the neighborhood where one is raised. Was He an urban teenager getting in the sorts of trouble one can get into in the city or was He more the rural, cow-tipping sort of youngster? I bet He created some friends He could hang and party with on the weekends, though that would have been tough for them. Jeez, talk about an inferiority complex, "oh yeah, I know, I can never live up to Him, mom, duh! Never gonna be good enough when your best friend is God!" But on the other hand it would give you bragging rights; "Ask me who I hung out with today, why dontcha? Yep, no kidding."
I know that to many people, religion is a way to explain so many things that are so difficult to understand but even with these so called simple that's-just-the-way-it-is "explanations" I still have questions for which nobody seems to have answers. Not only infuriating for me but also for those who happen to be around me when I'm in my inquisitive mood.
Maybe it's hereditary. My cousin Estela cannot seem to stop asking questions and hers are usually about the most mundane subjects or assumed ideas. We'll be driving along a residential street and she'll start innocently, like, "I wonder how much they paid for that house", and then she'll give you multiple choices, "$300,000? $400,000? More? Less? Maybe they didn't buy it, but it looks like they own it, it's so well taken care of, don't you think? And they have a nice car. That's an expensive car. What kind of car is that? How much does one of those cost? Are they comfortable? Have you ever been in one of those? It's pretty but I'm not sure it would be comfortable, what do you think? But I'll tell you one thing if I had that car I wouldn't leave it out there asking to be stolen or stripped, no, I'd put it in the garage, wouldn't you? Of course they probably have the garage so full of stuff they can't even park their car in it. What do you think they have in the garage that is so important that they can't fit their car in it? They've probably re-modeled and have it full of junk from the process. Of course they could have just bought all new furniture and haven't had the time to get rid of the old stuff. I wonder if they're going to have a garage sale. Even their old stuff is probably nice, right? Do you want to go with me to their sale?" And right at about the time you either want to scream or strangle her, you realize that you need to reach over and grab the steering wheel before the car veers over too much into the on-coming lane. At this point, she becomes momentarily shocked into silence until the next shiny thing appears.
Tonight, I'll lay in bed, trying to understand our universe a bit more as I fade into sleep, half listening to the TV program, half dreaming about some flying green baby wearing ten stolen toe-rings and a hat until the timer turns the tube off coinciding with my falling completely asleep and enjoying a nice peaceful dream for a change. I have sooooooo many questions about dreams!

Go see this: Jesse Young at The Globe Gallery

Untouched by Jesse Young, 2008

October 1-December 1, 2009

The Globe Gallery

105 South Main Street,

Seattle, WA 98104

www.globegalleryseattle.com

Soundtrack

As I rode the bus to my studio yesterday, out of the usual bombardment of noise that is normally present, a high pitch hum was breaking through. I kept trying to figure out if it was oozing out of one of the many rider-attached iPods or if it was my own ear malfunction when I finally honed in on the small, older, well-dressed woman sitting in the seat ahead of mine.

She was providing her own musical soundtrack! Brilliant!

This is not the first time I have encountered this peculiarity. No. When I was a kid, I used to hang out with a cousin, my own age who did just that. We would sit out on her front porch after school and talk about what went on that day since we had separate classrooms and in between talk there was that hum. It wasn't all the same, the "music" did have its variations, getting stronger and more dramatic accompanying the story she was telling and lighter and happier if such was the tone of our chat. Even at age 8 or 9 I thought it was a little odd and eccentric but I accepted it because after all, nutty has always been one of my favorite flavors.

Free entertainment for hours.

At my local über-grocery store, one of the cashiers is also a self-soundtracker; a rather Wagnerian one to boot. I either avoid him or seek him out depending on my mood or desire for dramatic distraction to my own insanity. He demands you give him your "customer card" for his swiping and don't even try to work it do-it-yourself style; them's fight'n actions and just for that you are in for a crescendo and a crooked evil eye as you walk out grocery bags in hand. "I challenge you to a duel!" I imagine him say.

Now, I know somebody is going to read this and tell me (as usual when I point out certain human oddities) that this is a psychological disorder and I'm being insensitive to those who "suffer" from this malady and I shouldn't be so ignorant and mean, blah, blah, blah. To that: You can't hear me but I'm humming you a mean f-ing soundtrack right now!

Studio Pics

Featured Artist - The Gay Places (Seattle)

The Gay Places - Featured Artist
http://archive.constantcontact.com/fs051/1101287836342/archive/1102691412108.html

Back in the Day

Back in the day when we smoked in bars, back in the day when I played guitar
You waited so patiently until the end of the show
Though I was exhausted, the sight of your face with that slanted smile only you know how to work without seeming too slick
The warmth of your hands and the hunger of your kiss were my drugs of choice,
My 70's ecstasy

Back in the day when we smoked in bars, no place we imagined seemed very far
I could always count on that face in the crowd I would sing to
Though I'd have to wait for hours, I knew my reward would be there waiting until that very last note and applause
Your words of praise never failed you
The tone of your voice was just right
Always exactly what I wanted to hear

Back in the day when we smoked in bars, back in the day when I played guitar
The secrets I sang for you once set me free
The nothings you whispered meant something to me
I remember our love affair, I remember your smell, I remember what you wore
How long did we last?
Was it years? Months? Days?
Oh.
Yes.
What was the length of that one song I played?

New Work: Fulguratus #4-5

Fulguratus #4, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 30" x 30"

Fulguratus #5, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 30" x 30"

Corporate Brilliance: Pest Pie

Recently, while I was out of town, I received an e-mail from a certain large company that sells electronics that concerned me, especially with all the identity theft going on. The following is the exchange of "communication" between me and "customer service" of said corporation. I won't mention the name of the company, but it sounds like Pest Pie.

7/22/2009-Hi juan alonso:We're happy to welcome you to Pest Pie. Now that you have an account, you can: blah blah blah

Confirmation of your Order
7/22/2009Order Number: PPY01-294245113307
Dear Juan Alonso: Thank you for shopping at Pest Pie. We have received your order, and it will be processed as soon as possible.
Order Date: 07/22/2009Order Number: PPY01-294245113307
Qty 1
Product Description
Royal Sovereign-12,000 BTU Portable Air Conditioner-White/Black-ARP-3012
juan alonso de la cruz, HAWTHORNE, CA 90250
Status: Order in process of being fulfilled. Estimated arrival date: 07/29/2009 - 08/05/2009
Order Total: $471.91

At this point I call them up and explain that "de la cruz" is not part of my name and I don't live in Hawthorne, CA and I did not order an air-conditioning unit. I suggest they have the wrong e-mail address for the customer that actually made the purchase.

7/22/2009
Juan,
Thank you for contacting and letting us know about this issue. I have tried to pull you up in our system by your email address and cannot find you with in our system. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you. We look forward to your next visit to one of our stores.

Order Cancellation
7/22/2009Order Number: PPY01-294245113307
Dear juan alonso: There's been a change to the status of your order.Your order has been canceled. Please refer to our conditions of use related to order limitations/limited quantities at Pest Pie. The credit card (or Gift Card) used for this order has been credited. If you used a Gift Card for this order and no longer have it, please call us toll-free at 1-888-XXX-XXXX and we'll send you a replacement.

At this point I call again and let them know that perhaps Mr. Alonso de la Cruz might still want his air-conditioner.

Replacement Gift Card
7/29/2009Order Number: PPY01-294245113307 Dear Juan Alonso: This e-mail confirms your replacement Gift Card request. A new Gift Card will be shipped to you.Get more information on this replacement Gift Card or any of your Pest Pie orders by checking order status.

Shipping Confirmation
7/30/2009Order Number: PPY01-294245113307 Dear Juan Alonso: The items listed below are now packed and ready to leave our warehouse. Your credit card (or Gift Card) has been charged for the items. If you used a Reward Certificate, it has been applied to your purchase.

8/3/2009
Juan,
I am Betty with Pest Pie Dot Com Research/Escalations team. I received notification that you have spoken with one of our Customer Care Representatives who advised that you had a concern about the cancellation of your order #PPY01-294245113307. I have reviewed that order in our system and can see that it did cancel and order #PPY01-294245113307 shows a replacement gift card shipped on 7/30/09 in the same amount as the original purchase amountI apologize for any inconvenience this has caused and thank you for your patience and understanding.

I reply to the e-mail:
Geez! You still don't get it!!!! I'm done with trying to correct your mistake.
If you have ANY interest in correcting it, you can call me, otherwise I'll just let you continue your major screw-up.

8/3/2009
Dear Juan De La Cruz,
Your opinion is important to us.
On Jul 29 2009 12:00AM, you contacted Louisa. As part of Pest Pie's commitment to excellence, we want to make sure we met your needs during that conversation. Would you please take a minute to answer a few questions to let us know how we did?
To respond to our survey, please click on the web address above. If that does not work, please copy and paste the entire web address into the address field of your browser.
NOTE: Please respond within five days so that you can provide timely feedback to us. This survey will be available for only 5 days.
Thank you for your valuable help!
Pest Pie Customer Support

I reply:
I have wasted WAY too much time with you people. Any more and you need to pay me.

8/4/2009
Mr. Alonso,
I am sorry that the information I previously sent to you did not, in your opinion, address the situation. I responded to the information I was provided by the Customer Care Representative that you had spoken to on 7/29/09. That representative advised that you had placed an order in the store and that the order was cancelled by phone the same day that it was placed. If you are wanting to know the reason the order cancelled you will need to contact your credit card company, as due to privacy issues, we do not have access to the reasons cards to not authorize. If you have any further concerns, other than the reason for cancellation, please feel free to contact Pest Pie Dot Com Research toll free at 1-866-XXX-XXXX and reference case #62710562. Again,I apologize for any inconvenience this has caused and thank you for your patience and understanding.

I am now losing my patience and reply to the e-mail
8/5/2009
PLEASE R E A D CAREFULLY AND S L O W L Y.....
I did not place any order, nor cancel one. All I'm trying to say is you are sending ALL this information to the wrong person/e-mail. The person that actually placed the order is someone else, who lives in California and has a different e-mail. It's a simple matter of someone copying down the wrong e-mail address. That's all! I can't waste any more of my time with Pest Pie inadequacies.

8/7/2009
Dear Juan Alonso,
In an ongoing effort to improve our services, we'd like to hear about your experience of having Pest Pie products shipped. Please click the button below to fill out a brief survey about your recent purchase on 07/29/2009, including Replacement Gift Card. It should only take a few minutes.Thanks for helping Pest Pie serve you better!

New Work: Fulguratus #1-3

Fulguratus #1, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 30" x 30"

Fulguratus #2, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 30" x 30"

Fulguratus #3, 2009, Ink & Graphite on claybord, 30" x 30"

New Work: Shaft

Shaft, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 30" x 30"

In Passing....

I often wonder, as I'm sure many people do, if life just happens as a series of random and disconnected individual events or if there is a purpose for many of our experiences. Something that peaks my curiosity even more is if there really is a reason for the many people we know along the way and the lives that touch us in a significant way and vice-versa. And who do we consider significant? It is obvious that our parents or that one teacher that inspired us to follow our passion would fall into that category but what about those connections we make that may feel more like brushings than anything else? How much does the butterfly effect factor into people that have been in our lives but only for a short time, maybe even momentarily with a kind smile and a sense of understanding that you were on the precipice of your darkest hour and yet you picked yourself up just in time, and they knew that and were there for the event. There are people that believe in a specific God or religion that clarifies or explains these issues of destiny but while not knocking the strength of anyone's faith, I would consider myself arrogant in saying that I know for a fact that for everything there is a time and reason. My tendency is to believe that there is indeed some connectivity between us and those souls we pass; brief encounters that seem insignificant at the time, yet, there are impressions of moments from my past that resonate over and over as I search for answers in my own life. Is it possible that the true love of your life was the passionate affair you had during that summer in Europe and not the spouse you've come home to and have sincerely treasured for twenty years? The person of whom you've thought as you're closing your eyes at night and wondered if you'll ever see them again in this lifetime (or the next), or if it could have worked in different circumstances? Would you even recognize them if they passed you on the street?

So many people have touched my life. So many people have opened my eyes and pointed me in a direction I never thought I'd take and they are all stored somewhere at different levels of my memory bank waiting at a moment's notice to be recalled for that piece of sage advice. They are treasures I hold dear and as I get older and memories do begin to fade, I continue to struggle to keep them alive. Today I was trying to think of one of my good friends during a difficult time in my life. I can't remember his last name and it bothers me. His essence and the sweetness and the love we shared as friends I do remember. I hope there are people in my past, present and future I have given or will give something positive to store in their memory vault. I hope those times when I looked someone in the eyes, even briefly, and felt a jolt of pain or joy or exuberance throughout my body, that they also felt a connection that perhaps yes, someone just clearly understood that particular moment in his/her life and is grateful for the stranger whose strings were at that moment, gently pulled in their direction.

Father's Day

My father was my hero. He was kind and giving to a fault. He was selfless enough to let me go as he stayed in Cuba knowing that he would probably never see me again. For this he was criticized by other members of the family although I did not know it at the time. He did the right thing and I am eternally grateful for his strength.
I never saw him again after that night when I slept on his lap at the airport before heading to Miami on March 2 1966. He later confessed to my grandmother's sister that he thought about running away with me if only there was a safe place we could go.
When he passed away in 1991, I felt a huge loss. One of my regrets in life is that I never expressed to him fully just how much I loved him. I hope he knew.

In Memoriam - Jorge Edgardo Alonso 10/25/15 - 6/13/09

Afer two weeks being in the hospital after a fall, my uncle Jorge passed away early on Saturday, June 13. He was my father's brother and my legal guardian when I arrived in the US in 1966. If there is an afterlife and such things happen, he'll be happy to be reunited with his wife Aracelia (pictured with him above). He is survived by two children, three grandchildren, four great-grandchildren and two great-great-grandchildren. May he rest in peace.

New Work: Borealis #1-5

Borealis #1, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 24" x 24"

Borealis #2, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 24" x 24"

Borealis #3, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 24" x 24"

Borealis #4, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 24" x 24"

Borealis #5, 2009, Ink & Graphite on Claybord, 24" x 24"

Available in the Studio: Printed Note Cards

Fanned Levitation, 2008

Sets of 5 note cards with the image above are now available in my studio and through mail-order.

They may also be purchased at Francine Seders Gallery www.sedersgallery.com

Details: Image is 4" x 4" on a vertical 5" x 7" white background with blank inside. Five cards with envelopes $10.

Mail orders: Add $2 for mailing for up to 2 sets. WA state orders, add $.95 sales tax per set. Please specify title of work "Fanned Levitation".

Juan Alonso Studio
Grand Central Arcade
214 1st Avenue South, Suite B15
Seattle, WA 98104
206-390-4882

In Memoriam - Wanda Flechsig

Wanda & me, April, 2006

Living in this amazing world of chaotic order, one of the best rewards for whatever good will we give the universe is crossing paths with certain people that tower above others in light and in goodness and in kindness. As an artist, one of the best rewards I have received is the call from someone who I had never met, asking if she could represent my work in another state and then, on top of that, treat me with the type of respect and dignity I have only experienced from a handful of people in this crazy business.

I have been represented by the Circa Gallery in Minneapolis, Minnesota since 2000. I have not once had anything resembling a disagreement with anyone there or had to make a phone call to the gallery requesting payment of sold work. When I finally went to Minneapolis for a solo show in 2006, I was treated like royalty. That was the first time I met then owner Wanda Flechsig. Today I am deeply, deeply saddened to write that this remarkably beautiful human being lost her battle to ovarian cancer on Thursday, June 4, 2009.

My heart goes out to her husband, family, friends and the many of us artists that she was so passionate about and who admired her so much. Having met Annie, I know she has left the gallery in extremely capable hands; I knew she would only have someone with her values, ethics & warmth carry on with her passion for art.

The woman, the person, the inspiration that is Wanda, will always be missed.

Jar the Memory

Jar the Memory, 2007

With the exception of some hauntingly familiar scents, not many things bring back old (better left forgotten) memories than the eminent death of a family member.
I should say that I by no means relish this unfortunate yet inevitable event and I don't want to be perceived as trying to nail any one's coffin prematurely either. My uncle, however is 93, in very poor health and currently in the hospital after a nasty fall in which he broke some bones. I'm not sure how cognizant he is currently, as his dementia has been getting rapidly worse in the last few months.
My uncle is my father's brother and was my legal guardian when I arrived with him and his wife in the US. I lived with them from 1966 until I left "home" in 1973 due to irreconcilable differences. I can say that I did learn from his very blue collar work ethics, although there were times when I found them rather harsh, like when I just had three wisdom teeth pulled and he didn't see the need to follow the doctor's advice of me taking it easy for a couple of days. Working at his wrought iron business, I did all sorts of jobs from designing to installing functional and decorative iron work. The day after my oral surgery I was sent to drill holes for a balcony railing using a jack-hammer type tool; my wounds opened and I started hemorrhaging. I was "allowed" to leave and drive myself to the dentist for further stitching and went back to work the next day. My co-worker decided it would be best if he did the more strenuous part of the job to avoid further emergencies. There's no whining in iron work.
For the most part we've had a civil relationship with a couple of exceptions. There were some fairly disturbing psychological games we played when I was growing up primarily because both him and his wife were not happy that I was way more interested in being a straight A student than continuing in the family business. (At one point I had dreams and the potential of earning scholarships and attending a university). There were plenty of attempts at sabotaging my fondness for learning and at one point I had to make it clear that it was illegal to keep someone under the age of 16 from attending school and that I would be willing to call the authorities if they continued on this path. I suppose in the end, they did succeed in cutting my education short. The summer before my senior year of high school, I slipped away in the middle of the night, not clear of where I would go but sure I didn't want to stay there with them. Being gay was just not an option in that household. Period.
When I first tried to return home to attempt some sort of contact, I was not allowed past the front gate by my aunt and I literally had to run from my uncle who came after me with a knife because I had the nerve to visit knowing the shame and embarrassment even my temporary presence would bring to the family. To be honest, I don't think he would have actually done me any harm since he has never been phisically violent towards me; I just didn't want to stick around to find out. Later on, another relative told me that it would have been better had I gone to jail for rape, because at least most rapists rape women.
Yet, as these memories begin to swirl in my head, the most I feel right now is sadness and willingness to be forgiving and to also remember the positive. I am very thankful that he was willing to take the responsibility of raising a child in a newly adopted country after his own children were grown.
Over the years our relationship has mellowed. I believe he has tried to forget some things and I have tried to rationalize the reasons for some of his actions. The closest I've ever felt to him was a couple of years ago when I was visiting Miami. He did not recognize me when I arrived but yet continued a conversation, faking it, as when you run into somebody you know you should remember but don't. A couple of hours later he called me aside and apologized for the lack of recognition on his part. I was touched by this bittersweet gesture especially since apologies have never been part of his repertoire towards me. I said it was not a problem and turned away as my eyes watered. Showing any sign of tears would not have been appropriate.
I know I will feel sad when he's gone and I will need time to reflect on our lives and sort out all those feelings that undoubtedly and uncomfortably will surface. In the end, love, forgiveness, acceptance and self-respect remain my preferred paths in life.

Poo Poo Point, Tiger Mountain, WA State

Mount Si, Washington State

Memorial Day 2009 hike to the top of Mount Si, Washigton State

http://www.wta.org/go-hiking/hikes/mount-si

Open Letter to WA Senator Steve Hobbs

May 14, 2009

Dear Senator Hobbs,

Since you introduced Bill 5693 to suspend the ½ of 1% for art program in Washington State (which failed), I nevertheless would like to bring up some points that may or may not have been discussed in defense of keeping the public art program going.
Art always seems to be the last priority in communities all over the country until we start bragging about where we live and how wonderful our museums are and how much public art we have in our cities. Then we’re glad we have it, we just don’t like paying for it, but that’s not really the focus of my letter.
You say that freeing up this “money could have been used to invest in valuable public works projects that will grow our economy and put people back to work” and you are concerned with the “message we are sending to struggling middle-class families across our state”.
I can see how it’s easy for the general public to have an antiquated image of artists, perhaps films depicting Toulouse Lautrec drunk on absinthe at the Moulin Rouge but the reality is quite different.
We (artists in Washington State), are part of the middle class you talk about, with families to feed and support. Many of us live below the poverty level, making do with very small incomes. We are also struggling and we also want to be put back to work.
I am fortunate to receive spousal health care benefits but it is a luxury to many of us. It is probably harder to see how an artist contributes to society than say, a teacher, but many of us take teaching jobs to supplement our income, so many of us are both. Although I have benefitted very little from the public art program, these jobs (and yes, they are jobs) come in very handy, especially in a bad economy where people are more concerned putting food on their tables than purchasing art and rightfully so. We also have those concerns.
When I have received a commission to create a public work, I have benefitted my community as well as myself. I pay rent for a studio, I purchase materials, I pay for a business license and am obligated to buy liability insurance. I pay self-employment tax and when my work sells at a gallery, sales tax is collected bringing revenue to the state as well. The gallery receives 50% of the sale price which in turn pays for their overhead, employees, insurance, etc. Many public works require fabrication by someone other than the artist, so a metal smith or a mosaic artisan, etc is employed with money that comes out of the amount allotted to the artist for the project. We contribute, not just in cultural value to our state, but monetarily as well, apparently unnoticed.
We support our communities. When funds need to be raised for the arts or just about any other cause, the art auction with artwork donated by individual artists (without even the benefit of a tax deduction) is the biggest source of funds. I recently had to rethink my donations when I discovered I had donated more than I had sold in one year.
Many of us have learned to do a lot with very little and it doesn’t seem fair to target a group that is already at a very low rung of the financial ladder. I would prefer that politicians whose job it is to balance the state budget suspend their own salaries for two years, but I know that’s not going to happen.
As far as keeping public art purchases to Washington State, even though it may lessen my chances of receiving a commission to create, I believe is a terrible idea for artists and for our state as well. Besides the fear of retaliation by other states’ art programs, the fact is that we in the far corner of the Pacific Northwest have been struggling for a long time to be on a more level, national playing field artistically. Limiting purchases to Washington State artists will not only hurt us when applying for jobs out of state but will also re-affirm the provincial image that local artists and art professionals have been trying to shed for many, many years.

Respectfully,
Juan Alonso

Available in the Studio: Printed Note Cards

Aurora #3, 2009

Sets of 5 note cards with the image above are now available in the studio and through mail-order.

Details: Image is 4" x 4" on a vertical 5" x 7" white background with blank inside. Five cards with envelopes $10.

Mail orders: Add $2 for mailing for up to 2 sets. WA state orders, add $.95 sales tax per set. Please specify title of work "Aurora #3".

Juan Alonso Studio
Grand Central Arcade
214 1st Avenue South, Suite B15
Seattle, WA 98104
206-390-4882

Words (are not all they have) To Take Your Heart Away...

.....there is plenty of grace as well.

And to the disappointment of some of my blog readers, maybe even all 2.5 of you, I'm putting away all sarcasm, cynicism and snarky remarks in order to say something nice on this post. I know, I know, bear with me here.

Before I go into details about last night, I should say that I was a big Bee Gees fan way before their disco re-invention for Saturday Night Fever, a brilliant soundtrack for what I thought was an over-hyped movie. For those too young to be familiar with songs like Words, To Love Somebody, Holiday, How Can You Mend A Broken Heart, Run to Me, etc, you're in for a treat and may very well be impressed with that side of their musical legacy. I recently saw a documentary about them (Bee Gees: This is Where I Came In) that made me appreciate them and their music even more.

So, about last night......

Yesterday I decided to take my sister out for an early Mother's Day dinner at Balans, http://www.balans.co.uk/lincoln.htm, one of my favorite restaurants here since I leave Miami on Tuesday. Nice atmosphere, great food, friendly service & they even make a pretty good mojito, although they used to use a darker rum a while back that made theirs stand out from the rest. I've tried other items on the many, all good, but often I end up ordering the same thing; a ceasar salad, pumpkin mascarpone tortellini (with sautéed cherry tomatoes and herb cream sauce) and crepes con dulce de leche with sabayon ice cream for dessert. Yum.......And another mojito.
A little after we got there I noticed a familiar face at the opposite corner and realized it was Barry Gibb of Bee Gees fame with a strikingly beautiful woman and a man whose face I never got to see. After a few sips of my mojito and having missed the opportunity to say anything the last time I saw them while Maurice was still living, I wrote a short note on one of my cards. It simply said, Thanks for all you have inspired. I asked our very nice, very handsome waiter from Tunisia (Yes, I was curious and I asked, thanks to Mr. Mojito on an empty stomach) to please hand it to Mr. Gibb and say that I didn't want to intrude but that the note was heartfelt. I left it at that and we continued enjoying our meal.
A while later, the beautiful woman sitting with Barry came over to our table. She introduced herself as Linda (Barry's wife's and former Miss Edinburgh) and thanked me for the "very nice gesture" and asked if I was a photographer. Probably to her relief, I explained I was not. As if that wasn't enough, when the three of them were about to leave, I saw Barry excuse himself and head our way. He came to the table and very graciously as well, introduced himself and thanked me for the note. Of course at this point, whatever amount of eloquence I had left, flew out the window. I'm sure I sounded like an idiot; and why didn't I get up to shake either one's hands? I was paralyzed and glued to my chair, apparently. I became a thirteen year old girl meeting the Jonas Brothers.
Now, I'm not claiming to have any insight into the Gibbs or pretend that I know anything about them from such a short interaction but bombarded by stories of rudeness, ego and downright bizarre behaviour of some celebrities, it was very refreshing, quite a thrill indeed, and an honor to shake the hand of someone I have truly admired as a song writer and musician for a very long time. Their grace and gratitude seemed genuine. Sincere.

Snapshots - Miami Beach

I Need Some Chips With That Cheese, Please

This morning, after my dramatic video post, I headed to the beach a bit earlier than usual in hopes of a less family-ed ensemble of sun bathers. Not much luck with that but I know that if I want that "sort of scene" I need to truck down to South Beach. Since I'm up here and I'm not looking for any trouble to get into I went to the nearby beach and it being around 11 am it was not too crowded. In fact there were about 30 to 40 feet of beach to my right before the next set of sun worshipers and about 20 feet to my left until a young couple decided they needed an audience and they plopped themselves down about 6 feet away from me, on my left of course, so they'd have a stereo listening as well as viewing audience to suffer them. Annoying.

I proceeded to strike up a conversation in a bad sing-songy Mexican accent and explained how I had just returned from a long trip (cough) to visit my (cough) family at their pig fa....(cough, cough) ...farm there but was glad to leave due to the very (cough) close quarters of their (cough) living arrangements. Surely they'd move further away from me, right? No.

Nothing could keep them away from an audience for the show they were about to put on which I'm sure they talked about and have rehearsed many times with invisible voyeurs. I tried to mentally block them but there was no subtlety to their disgusting displays of public affection; affection being an understatement. They were dry humping. No, not true because they had smothered themselves in some cheap coconut smelling grease they considered sunscreen, or lube, or both and pretty soon the sound of their belly blubber slaps became very unsettling. To add insult to injury, with the assistance of one of their navel valleys, the slaps gave way to flatulent noises. At least we were outside with a breeze in case it wasn't belly smackings I was hearing. After a while of gross sounds, I thought, oh God, sweet relief, Mr Studmuffins is leaving!

This was a long and arduous goodbye, the kind that could have been forgiven if he was being deployed to Iraq and he had already lost an appendage of some sort. Anything would be OK in that situation, but no, not a chance. After a series of goodbye attempts and just when I was wishing for a crowbar to pull them apart, he finally un-velcroed himself from her. He had not reached a distance of 50 feet from her when she pulled out her cell phone and took a "seductive" picture of herself and yes, you probably guessed it, sent it to him, causing the dumbf**k to turn around and acknowledge her saccharin moment.

He couldn't have stayed away for more than five minutes. I don't know where he could have gone and returned so quickly. Pee in the bushes when there's a perfectly good ocean right there? He didn't bring anything back, like lunch for her or a vomit bag for me.

OK, so he's back and the frolicking continues and the next thing you know, out come his balls. Two very different sizes, one way larger than the other. At first he's coyly playing with them as if to figure out which size he prefers but as with most jock types, he's not happy to play alone. Girly seems completely uninterested in her man's toys but after some sweet talking and convincing that she really wants to, as all good girls do, she finally gives in. She feels them both and chooses the bigger one and off they go to play some sort of soccery game with the white and yellow striped one (pictured above).

After the kicking of the ball around a few minutes, almost hitting several peaceful sun-baking individuals like myself, they apparently needed some cooling off and went into the ocean. Where's a strong rip current when you need it? So helpless and frightened she was, that she did not let go of him for one second and the pièce de résistance was when he officer-and-a-gentleman-carried her out of the water. Some margaritas and chips would have been nice with that much macho cheese.

I couldn't take it any more, self preservation kicked in, I left the beach and the two lovebirds to their own devices. Whatever blubbery, rude noise-making, coconut lard smelling fun those two at the beach thought they were having does not compare to what the warm, creamy custard filling oozing out of Manolo's churro did to my mouth. http://churrosmanolo.com/index1.html

Mmm mmm mmm. That's good stuff.