This weekend was incredibly lovely. One of those weekends where time feels stretched out, somehow, because of the variety in people, places and content. Four days felt like a week and some to me and my mind is full and happy and digesting.
(I am excited that the artist of the piece that blew my mind reached out/found me. Here is to local art and to non pedestal'ed artists.)
It is good to be home.
This morning is the one morning I have a slow start to the day before a full flow of work and out-of-town-visitors and art and more work and particular types of solace. I keep thinking about Antonio Lopez and how hypnotic it seemed to be to watch him draw. All of these descriptions of how he would hold his breath while he drew to be able to get the most perfect and still lines. How he would jut his tongue in and out of his mouth. How, at times, he would get up and dance and dance and dance before continuing to draw.
Perhaps you are familiar with his work. Perhaps you aren't. Perhaps you are but don't know that it was him.
He was a queer fashion illustrator born in Puerto Rico who moved to New York with his family when he was seven. He would hang out at Studio 54. He would befriend and/or hang out with Karl Lagerfeld, Warhol, Yves Saint Laurent...he would draw Grace Jones, Pat Cleveland, Jessica Lang, Tina Chow among others.
Anyway. I've been learning more about him in the past week and some. Going over his art. Going over interviews with and about him. Wanting to replicate almost every outfit he ever wore in public. Running my fingers over his story as I piece it together. His history and story are important for a thousand reasons - all of them having more to do with representation and magic and beauty and art and adventure than with the actual mechanics and capitalism of the known fashion industry.
Look into him. Enjoy his art. See how wide spread his influence was and continues to be.
(pause)
I've been thinking a lot about concepts of home. How there are people who make up what is home to me. Family. I love them so much. They are close and they are far flung. And that's all right. Family is family is family. If you want it bad enough, you make a blueprint. Hand over hand. Family is family is family. It's just a matter of knowing when to say no or yes.*
It is good to be home.
be well; be loved,
k.
(images: photo of Antonio Lopez while drawing; drawing by Antonio Lopez; another photograph of him in the outfit I want to replicate most)
(*= Last sentence is a lyric from Blueprint by Fugazi)
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