New! New! New! At Friday's open studio

As noted a few days ago, I've gone tag crazy again. This time, the batch includes a slew of Halloween tags, some with nifty vintage finds. Check them out, sip some wine, munch some cheese and look for some other new surprises in my studio during Brazee Street Studios' open studios 6-9 p.m. tomorrow (Friday Sept. 9). All the details are on the page just below the blog header above - just click on the shaded blue box.

In the studio? In my dreams!

This how I look when I'm hard at work in the studio. As if. I can't resist sharing the new post on the Paper With a Past blog about my latest great find: the grandiose, 2-volume "The Gibson Book" set published by Charles Scribner's Sons in 1906. It contains work from 11 of his titles and is appropriately aged but mold free, bug free, not a torn page in sight and appears to be completely intact. You'll be seeing these in a collage series in the new year.

Gibson's "It Girl" of the early 20th century

I know it must seem like I exaggerate when I say I've had another heart-stopping moment, but that's how I feel when I come across a great find. In this case: two large, dirty red cloth-covered books that caught my eye on the bottom shelf of an antique shop in Columbus, Ohio. Actually, it was the still shiny, stamped gold leaf wreath with the words "The Gibson Book" that stopped me in my tracks.

I had seen the two-volume set just once, years ago while attending an event at Peterloon, the suburban Cincinnati estate owned by Gibson's daughter, Irene, and her husband John Emery. The oversized, coffee table books were published by Charles Scribners' Sons in 1906 and contain the contents of 11 Gibson titles, that is, hundreds of drawings that are by turn satirical and charming. Each page is 11" x 17," so they open into an impressive 34" wide - too large for any of our coffee tables and, unfortunately, for my scanner. Yeah, a new scanner is on the top of my wish list.

The works are meticulously drawn with a keen eye for facial expression that goes far beyond the iconic Gibson Girl whose image swept the nation and is hip to this day. Don't believe that? Well, Urban Outfitters recently touted Gibson Girl wallpaper - with the added touch of red lipstick here and there - and it sold out. The pattern was taken from "Design for Wall Paper," above, which was originally published by Life in 1902 and has the witty subtitle: "Suitable for a Bachelor Apartment." On the next page - below - is an aspiring beauty in 1903's "The Seed of Ambition" from Collier's Weekly.

Food for thought

I've been working on a series of collages for an upcoming exhibit at The Bonbonerie Cafe - no date yet - that are based on people's food memories. I thought I'd give a sneak preview of two of the pieces in progress. I plan to finish these and the remaining three this week, now that I've wrapped up 90 new collage tags - including a batch of Halloween ones you'll see soon.

I read, and re-read, pages and pages of memories that were collected during a series of dinners last winter and spring at a large, communal table in The Bonbonerie's former tea room. Each meal had a theme and during the dinners, people shared their stories of the role that food's played in their lives. I found myself attracted to far too many of the stories and overwhelmed as I began to gathering paper for them. So, I winnowed it down to five stories that resonated the most with me.

The collages shown here - which I haven't titled yet - are about a first-time lobster experience on a date in Miami and a grandfather who owned a cafe in Northern Kentucky and, for a time, sold sausages from his bicycle. I loved that image and was lucky enough to find a large-scale bicyclist in my stash, along with some beautiful sausages. The gummed price labels were a fab find tucked inside a box of cardboard price tags I bought two years ago on a trip to New Harmony, Ind. I was looking for a tag and had forgotten the labels were there. That's one of the things I love about what I do: constant surprises!

I'll let you know when the exhibit opens.

The gift that really did keep on giving

When I was in college, I received a terrific gift: a drawing table with a large surface and the ability to be folded to a 6-inch width. Handy when you moved as much as I did in those days and the decade that followed. The table was from one of my four brothers, David. Today is the 20th anniversary of his death at age 36. He was one of the early AIDS victims and it was shattering to watch such a vibrant, athletic man wither before our eyes.    

David had a knack for finding the right present and followed my late mother's dictum of giving gifts that the recipient would never buy. Generally, though, my mom's gifts were whimsical while David's were far more practical. Like her, he was thoughtful and knew me inside out. He always surprised me with exactly what I wanted - even when I hadn't asked for it. I still carry around the beautiful, leather knapsack he gave me when he knew I longed to travel but couldn't afford to. I did eventually get to tote it around Europe, and still take it with me when we go.

David and I shared our birthday celebrations. He was born Sept. 27, the day before me, and two years after me. When we were young, there was a big sheet cake divided in half by pink icing on my side and blue on his. Later, my mom began a tradition of making us our favorite meal on our birthdays and I opted for pumpkin pie instead of cake. I loved the pie, but missed blowing out all the candles on our shared cake.  

The drawing table ended up being the only one I would own, and has been at the center of every studio I've had. It is scuffed; embedded with ink, paint and glitter; marred by hundreds of cuts made by razor blades, knives and Japanese hole punches. But I'd never part with it.