A Little Somethin' Somethin' about Amber Skowronski

I meant to post this awhile ago but sometimes our pets do some really naughty things. The whole “my dog ate my homework” excuse seems completely plausible this week. You see, my cat Baxter (aka Little Bastard) ate the cord that powers up my laptop.

He’s lucky he’s cute and that there’s a plethora of these cords on eBay

Back to my original post:

Do people send gifts anymore? Are there really just a few of us out there? Surprises people! Have we given up on the extra delight that comes with a little extra something placed inside an envelope before it hits the post? Do we really give a rat’s ass about the extra postage? No. We get the satisfaction of knowing the recipient will be beaming when they open our package.

They could have had the worst day at work, maybe they can’t find a place to work, or worse just lost a job. But forget all of that. Here comes your package delivered by a nice man or woman, or in the case of my local postman, an old curmudgeon that gives lectures on how to properly park ones car when facing uphill: Wheels away from the curb, pointing to the left.

So, not so long ago my friend BB told me about an incredible artist, Amber Skowronski. The amazing thing about all of this internet weirdness is that I was able to befriend her and look through the killer selection of illustrations and portraits that make up her portfolio. And if you have a fine appreciation for some Kung Fu follow her awesome blog.

You’ve had a peek at her work now. Pretty amazing collection, right? I found one item in particular that I liked. Yeah, so I’ve got a Lee Pace thing. The lovely guy went to my high school and turns out I’m a big gushing fan. Do the rest of us Bearkats stand a chance? What exactly is a bearkat, or bearcat for that matter?

Amber sent me a wonderful illustration of Mr. Pace as the Masked Bandit (aka Roy) from The Fall. If you haven’t seen it yet stop reading my silly blog and fill your mind with some beautiful and epic scenery.

Here is the print Amber sent me:

(sorry about my added watermark but I have to protect Ms. Skowronski’s work)

In addition to this print Amber included a T-shirt...

and some wonderful postcards...

Don’t you people miss getting letters in the mail? Don’t you miss surprises and crazy stamps? How about your friends writing your name on an envelope in experimental calligraphy and dotting the “I” in your name with something sweet or vulgar.

Sure the internet keeps us together but the tangible proof that we exist keeps us truly connected. Keep making art. Keep in touch with something other than a text message.

Thank you, Amber!

Find a penny, pick it up...

This morning I found a lucky penny from 1997. It was face up in space number 50 in our parking garage. My spot, 51, is squeezed in between number 50 and an enormous cement pole. I only found the penny because I was staring down at the glistening broken glass spread all over the ground.

Instantly I checked my ride. My Honda was fine aside from the remnants of a massive bird that had flown over it the day before. Maybe getting dowsed with bird poop really is a blessing.

Apparently three cars were broken into last night. My neighbor, at least my parking garage neighbor, has a car seat for their baby in the back row. What kind of jerk breaks into a car with a baby seat?

While at work today I was concerned that the thieves were after said baby seat. Maybe they had taken it along with some diapers and the stereo. I imagined befriending my parking garage neighbors and having a fundraiser to get them a replacement. We’d become pals. Maybe I’d occasionally baby-sit for some extra cash.

Thankfully the baby's car seat was still there when I returned from work this afternoon. Unfortunately their front passenger window was not.

But back to my lucky penny from 1997. Thank goodness for 1997. That year I could finally buy my own booze, we got President Clinton for a second term, and the first Harry Potter was published. Of course, that same year Dolly the sheep was cloned, Bill Berry left R.E.M. after suffering a brain aneurysm, and Willem de Kooning died.

Here’s one of my favorite de Kooning paintings.

Seated Woman, c. 1940.

I’ll put my lucky penny with my two other favorite Indian Head Pennies from 1893 and 1904. I’ve had them in my coin collection since I worked at Drug Emporium during my high school days. I am amazed by what some people let slip out of their wallets. These are worth at least a dollar each by now!

Indian Head Pennies were circulated from 1859 to 1909. If you come across one from 1877 I’ll give you ten bucks for it.

Out of curiosity I looked over the events from 1893 and 1904. The highlights? On May 10, 1893, the United States Supreme Court legally declared the tomato to be a vegetable. On April 24, 1904, Willem de Kooning was born.

Grimm and Gorey

Those of us lucky enough to have been born in the late 1970s might remember a little gem of a show called Faerie Tale Theatre. It began in 1982 and featured Shelley Duvall as the host and oft required fairy tale land lady in distress. Two things have brought this show into my odd little mind as of late.

This past Saturday my sister was supposed to receive The Shining via Netflix but it seems a lot of other people in the Portland area also wanted to check out the footage of Timberline Lodge seen in the film. So we have to wait to watch Ms. Duvall in the ultimate creep show.

An even better Saturday occurrence was a random stop at Goodwill out in Tigard. While looking through the children’s book the title Rumpelstiltskin popped out from the typical smattering of stories about counting your fingers and toes.

Before I even pulled the book off the shelf my mind went directly to Shelley Duvall as the Miller’s Daughter and the title roll being played by Hervé Villechaize (in a roll showing he could do much more than point up at the sky and yell about planes).

I forgot all about that as soon as I looked at the book's cover or should I say it’s extremely fantastic – in fine condition – dust jacket. Have a look:

My readers should know by now how much I adore Edward Gorey. He illustrated this version of the Grimm Brother’s Tale retold by Edith Tarcov, published by Four Winds Press and published in 1974. The copyright is 1973 (Scholastic published a soft cover version before this one).



At Oldimprints we have a copy of Goreyography by Henry Toledano. It is an excellent resource for identifying just how awesome or not your particular Edward Gorey book is. My Rumpelstiltskin is the first edition published by Four Winds Press which is thrilling for me as a collector.

I might just have to see if I can put Faerie Tale Theatre in my Netflix queue.

Creature Comforts

This past week roused my as of late rather sedentary body and mind. I was reminded of the awesome forts I used to create out of my canopy bed, of what a crazy wreck I was during the tender age range of 18 through 33 (I am now 33 ¾), and of how fun it is to be silly every now and then.

I’ve been sick with some oddball cold all week. At first I thought this was my punishment for reckless behavior involving copious amounts of tequila.

Now I realize I have this cold because it has forced me to sit down and reminisce.

Where the Wild Things Are

My sister and I headed to the theater on Tuesday night along with about fifty other “older folk” and a few 4 to 6 year old wild things. I loved this film, especially during a scene when wild thing KW is contemplating leaving the group. One of the 4 to 6 year olds in the audience protested “No, don’t go!”

I don’t currently have a copy of Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are but I have a few children’s books about scary things from about that time period. Halloween is next week after all.

Hoot Hoot

Owl At Home written and illustrated by Arnold Lobel (Scholastic Book Services, 1975) was a favorite of mine as a kid so I was pleased as punch to find it for 99 cents at a thrift store. There are five short stories inside.

Strange Bumps, about those two odd mounds beneath the covers at the end of the bed when you’re tucked nice and tight under the covers, is by far the scariest story in this lot. But my favorite, Tear-Water Tea, has Owl thinking of sad things so he can cry and fill his teapot.

The saddest thing?

I know exactly how Owl feels. Once upon a time I was reading a Tolkien book only two find that about two hundred pages in ten pages from a completely unrelated book were bound in instead of an extremely exciting part of the story. Sad indeed.

Crows Are Always Scary Right?



The Crows of Pearblossom was written by Aldous Huxley and illustrated by Barbara Cooney (Random House, New York, 1967). This fun tale involves a crow’s nest, a hungry snake, and well...you can guess how it starts off.

Luckily Old Man Owl, a much brighter creature than Owl at Home, saves the day.

Witches, Naturally

The following find was a true score in my book: Suppose You Met a Witch by Ian Serraillier with illustrations by Ed Emberley, Little, Brown and Company, Boston, 1973, First Edition. I think my copy is signed in pencil “Ed – Ipswich Oct 1973”. Maybe by Mr. Emberley?

Check out his fascinating drawings…

And Finally, The Beasts...

The Bad Child’s Book of Beasts and More Beasts for Worse Children by Hilaire Belloc with illustrations by Harold Berson (Grosse & Dunlap, New York, 1966) is filled with the cutest illustrations that explain the pros and cons of certain pets such as Tigers, Frogs, Pythons, Welsh Muttons and Vultures.


I’ll take that advice.

A Mother's Day Dish

The most important thing in the Berretta family is the next meal. Growing up I was never famished nor did I consume a large amount of processed/frozen/canned food. Mom made everything fresh and continues that tradition to this day. The local farmer’s market is like a fine art museum to my mother. She worships each round plum and bundle of asparagus as if plucked from the Garden of Eden itself.

There were times as a kid when I wasn’t sure if my friends liked me for me or for my mother’s free amazing meals. One might think that I too would turn out to be an amazing cook, a queen of the kitchen. My current kitchen is approximately 25 square feet – I kid you not. Does this bother me? Only when I hit my rear against the sink when trying to open my fridge. I am no chef.

In honor of Mother’s Day and my mother’s love of food, I thought I would somehow relate this to something I collect. Plates and trivets are the first thing that came to mind. Granted I would never eat off the plates I’m about to discuss.


ITALY:

My sister bought me this fantastic small plate (approximately 5 inches) while she was in Italy for my cousin's wedding. It is marked "Orvieto" on the back side or as I like to say, the verso. Orvieto is in southwestern Umbria, Italy which is northwest of Terni, Italy where my father was born.

A trivet with a scene of Tuscany. Made in Italy. 8 inches – I originally bought two of these but my depth perception failed me when hanging the other scene and became a much missed casualty. This is most likely the most contemporary item listed here.

ENGLAND:

Wedgwood, 4 ½ inches, Porcelain, Ca. 1955 (based on a similar blue one I found listed). This was my grandmother’s and I failed to mention it in my previous blog about all the fine things she bestowed upon me. It features a floral border and three mythological scenes. The verso is marked: Made in England, Wedgwood and X.

A FARM SOMEWHERE (?):

Chicken, hammered bronze/copper/brass (?), 5 ½ inches. If anyone has any ideas on this one feel free to share. I just loved the crazy chicken/bird. I feel like one myself sometimes.

ROMANIA:

Romania, painted wood plate, 7 ½ inches - Again, I just loved the painting on this one and have no idea when it was made.

MEXICO:

Despite the label that reads “La Ceramica de Talavera. Objetos para Regalo. Lagasca 44” (Talavera is a famous Mexican pottery), the verso of this awesome tile reads “Onda, Espana” a city in Spain. So perhaps once upon a time this was made in Mexico and sold at a gift shop in Spain.

Talavera pottery is extremely beautiful. This tile image doesn’t seem to fit in much with the ornate decorative pottery I uncovered but I love horses. End of story.

JAPAN:

This lovely piece marked “Moriyama – Made in Occupied Japan” was filthy when I bought it for $2 at a thrift store. If I had taken a better picture you would be able to see all the gold accents I uncovered, including the trim around the edges. The “Occupied Japan” dates it between 1945 to 1952 when Japan was occupied by the Allied Powers. It measures 6 ¼ inches in diameter and once again has a horse.

TURKEY:

This brightly colored plate is marked "Hand made Kütahya, Turkey". Kütahya is apparently known for its beautiful colored tiles and pottery. I certainly agree and am glad someone else had the chance to travel there, purchase this wonderful plate and then years later donate it to a thrift store. It measures 7 ½ inches in diameter.

Alright, kids, time for dinner. Be sure to wish Mom a Happy Mother's Day.

Saturday for the Price of Less Than Twenty Clams

February has been a busy month. I’ve been picking up extra hours at an old job, catching up on this year’s somewhat disappointing Oscar selections and polishing up a story I’ve been writing.

Today ended up being a great day to go into Powell’s and Goodwill. Today's treasures became mine for the combined total of $18.88.

William Blake

I found a copy of William Blake at the Huntington (Huntington Library in San Marino, California). Like Arthur Rackham, William Blake is another illustrator I greatly admire. Here’s my favorite image from the book:

Satan Watching the Endearments of Adam and Eve.
This is a pen and watercolor illustration for John Milton's Paradise Lost, 1807.

Christina the Astonishing

The story I have been working on for quite some time now involves Christina the Astonishing – Patron Saint of Psychiatrists and the Insane. Nick Cave wrote a beautiful song about her.

Each version I hear is a bit different but I know that she died from an epileptic seizure but rose up from her coffin during her funeral. She avoided humans and their foul smells by hiding in small places such as ovens or up in the trees or rafters of buildings. Many thought she was insane and tried to lock her up but she always escaped. She died (for real this time) in her seventies at a convent. Today I found this charming book:

Lucy’s Eyes and Margaret’s Dragon. The Lives of the Virgin Saints. Written and illustrated by Giselle Potter and published in 1997 by Chronicle Books. It features the tales of thirteen female saints: Ursula, Agnes, Cecilia, Agatha, Lucy, Barbara, Bega, Brigid, Christina, Margaret, Catherine, Joan and Uncumber.

Here’s a picture of Christina mid flight after her first funeral. The hand over her nose is a nice touch. Stinky humans.



Bric-a-brac

The day later led me to Goodwill with the intent purpose of looking through books. Wouldn’t you know it; their bookshelves had collapsed and were taped off. So I was forced to look through the bric-a-brac. Not only did I find this wonderful Kokeshi doll…

…but an aisle or two over this beautiful miniature altarpiece.

It is approximately 9 x 13 1/2 inches when fully expanded. Sadly, the outside panel of the Annunciation is damaged. Mary is missing. I intend to find a similar painting and restore it myself. At the rate I’m going now it will be some time next year before I can blog about that.

Here is a detail of the central panel.

Gorgeous.

Lone Star Love

Texas, you’re on my mind again.

You see, I love Portland but I haven’t been able to connect with people here like I did in the Lone Star State. Hell, it was easier to meet people in Los Angeles than in this beautiful and tree filled mountainous wonderland. But those I roamed the streets of L.A. with came with me one summer on a caravan across I-10 from Austin, Texas. I went to the City of Angels with some secret desire to make it despite being the shyest, worst self sales woman alive.

When I was a little girl I sat under the tables during preschool rather than chat with the other kids. Mom enrolled me in a ballet class at the age of five? Maybe six? I loved my sequined outfit, my slippers, my crown, but performing in front of people? No thank you! I was kicked out of that class in no time. Despite my love of performing for my family, the rest of the world as a critic was just too much for a little kid who covered her face when mom introduced her to strangers.

My ballet attire:

What’s with our genetic make up anyway? My older brother Sean talked to everybody when he was a kid. Mom would run around department stores in a panic trying to find him only to discover he had struck up a fifteen minute conversation with some saleslady in Sears. My little sister Colleen was an absolute ham. I’d dress her up and write skits for her to perform. She sang into a honey dipper and ate up all the attention.

But back to Texas...

I have heard so many times that you can leave Texas but it never leaves you. At work I’ve catalogued several “Texas Brag” type maps where the state basically encompasses the entire United States.

I found this little booklet at a garage sale in Albany, Oregon. “The First Completely Revised Edition of Texas Brags Collected by John Randolph” with new illustrations by Mark Storm and “Published for the enlightenment and entertainment of the world at large” in Hufsmith, Texas, 1950.

The man who owned it gave it to me for 10 cents. He obviously didn’t give one lick about Texas. Unlike me who as a fifth grader cared so much about my home state that I was talked into wearing a ruffled blue and white checkered skirt while I square danced in the Texas Sesquicentennial Celebration in 1986. Thank goodness I don’t have a picture of that event handy. I was a foot taller than my partner.

Something I couldn’t do as a kid in Spring, Texas, was take leisurely strolls around town. If I set out anywhere on foot it would be at least thirty minutes before I even made it out of my “subdivision” Terra Nova. Another thirty minutes would pass and maybe I would have reached Strack Intermediate School or the Kroger’s grocery store parking lot. Nothing too exciting for all that effort.

Portland is a walker’s dream come true.

Today the family and I headed around the city for some shopping. Inside my favorite thrift store, William Temple, I found this awesome $10 painting of an elephant. I call it "Ives Klein and Basquiat on a Safari".

I also purchased this wonderful frog king that I thought would have been more appropriate for my frog blog from a month or so ago.

Having done a little research on the piece, I discovered that this regal frog couldn’t have hopped into my life at a more apropos time. On his back is a circular artists stamp: Jan Barboglio. Turns out Ms. Barboglio is an artist based out of Texas. All of her pieces are made from hand cast iron.

Speaking of artists from Texas, I started out by participating in Rodeo Art competitions until the 9th grade. In 4th grade I won third place for a lovely crayola image of a horse drawn wagon traveling through a landscape reminiscent of areas of I-10 through New Mexico. In 6th grade I got first prize for this handsome piece.

Beside the shiny blue ribbon is my label which lists the drawing for $8.50. Someone out there is going to be down right mad they didn’t snatch this piece of Berretta ephemera up for such a bargain price when they had the chance. As of right now it’s priceless.