Footlight records NYC

I lived in New York City for nearly 10 years, first working as an art director on the now-defunct Ladies Home Journal, and then as a freelance illustrator. I adored the freelance life! Especially wandering the streets while everyone else was working. Footlight Records was a wonderful place in Greenwich Village, a record shop specializing in vintage vinyl — broadway shows, classic jazz, vocals. Nearby I could buy a slice of white pizza. Around the corner, the Strand Book Store.

Footlight Records, Greenwich Village

Deliveries.

I know a lot of people all over the country are pretty fed up with the snow this winter,
but as you can see, as a Southern Californian, I'm still romanticizing it!

Deliveries from the factory.

Work in progress: Deliveries from the sock factory

The fun part about doing a painting after I've already painted it in my journal, is that so much of it is already worked out, and I can really enjoy the act of putting down color and lavishing attention on the details.

Working from the original 3.5" x 5.5" painting in my tiny journal.

One white fox

Ever have a million things on your list and not get any of them done? This is just a quickie for a series of paintings.

One white fox.

Pearl and Isadore

These are some bunnies I happen to know. They like to chew on electrical cords as well as books and carpeting. Everything must be placed out of their reach when they go on their rampage in the house. They only get away with it because of their natural charm.

Pearl & Isadore

Lassie's neighbors

Sometimes I obliterate my to-do list altogether by painting over it, and just hope I remember what it was. This started out as a rumination on poodles, clotheslines, British back yards and bomb shelters.

Lassie's neighbors

                                       

The earth shook. Under my feet.

We had an earthquake! It wasn't so bad where I live, but it's always... er, interesting.

Friday night quake

Punctuation doing its job

Punctuation doing its job. Ironically, I mis-punctuated that! 

Emerald City

My father worked as an engineer at the Amoco oil refinery most of his life. I remember how he once made a scale model of the refinery out of balsa wood, and I thought it was just about the coolest thing I had ever seen. I don't recall much else about it, except the nice lady who was a secretary (or something) there, and a company picnic along the York River. In my mind,  it looked like Emerald City from the Wizard of Oz, and for some reason, I still think of the refinery when I hear the music of George Shearing.

Emerald City on the York River

Cat on a rainy day

A painting for a stormy afternoon