September

colla

September; back to school in a way, for the first time in five years.  Two team-teachers with a single canine student, we’re of course also learning, and we’re conducting class rigorously 24/7. Every week to ten days, we’ll visit our new trainer, who I like very much. Chance now wears his training collar all day, unless we are both out. The expected course outcome is: to no longer need the collar. He’s definitely a sophomore; he sometimes talks back, making exquisitely smart-assed sounds (and faces and body gestures) when given a command. But he does do what he’s told in spite of the commentary, and I have, somehow, found the strength not to laugh when he’s being such a hilariously pouty brat. Not once!

fuzzheid

The past  week or so felt like moving through dense fog, but actually a lot was accomplished, including unpacking two shows in seven crates, two teaching-sample crates, a (so-tedious) app, and getting the next show assembled, admin-ed, packed and shipped.  Pulp Culture at the Morris Museum in NJ is the final show of the year requiring shipping, and now I can be intrigued by it and excited about it again; it does look most interesting and with diverse, unusual inclusions from artists to engineers to iconic paper dresses from the1960s. It’s another one I’m sorry not to be able to see, though it would be exceedingly difficult to avoid handling Li Hongbo’s work.  I’m not sure I could restrain myself.

There are two more relatively lightweight deadlines before mid-month, another large show returning, and of course all the other things we are dealing with, but: fingers crossed. It’s looking like I can begin to add studio and garden into the mix again: my kind o’ September.

dawgsThe Tail.

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