“I’d like to meet him again”

Mira Tudor_Poets, Artists, Lovers. A Novel_ebook cover_blog_sm“Hey! Glad you could make it!” exclaimed Henriette, enveloping her younger friend Ela in a hug and wafts of sea breeze fragrance before giving her the customary kiss on both cheeks.

Ela readjusted her glasses, amused at how exuberant Henriette still was at thirty-four.

“Should we go in?” Henriette prompted, opening the door with a flourish.

Ela stepped gingerly into the exhibition space. “Beautiful place,” she remarked, noting how the sunbeams streaming through the large glass wall glinted off the rough, irregular surfaces of bronze-cast works.

“Coffee, tea?” Henriette asked as Ela removed her scarf and trench coat.

“Tea. But I want to look at the sculptures first.”

“See if you can spot mine,” Henriette called after her.

A few moments later the bell on the door tinkled, and Pamfil, a tall, dark-eyed man with a mop of wavy black hair entered the gallery, his eyes on Henriette.

“Hello, Ettie,” he said with a smile, taking a cursory look around the gallery. Ela was by now at the other end of the room, engrossed in a sculpture depicting a hybrid between the torso of a woman and the trunk of a tree.

“Hello, Phil,” Henriette returned nonchalantly.

“How are you doing?” Pamfil asked.

“Came to see the show with a friend of mine,” Henriette responded. She grabbed a tea mug and headed with Pamfil in tow to where Ela was photographing a work displaying a heart squeezed under a tall stack of books.

“Reminds me of Har,” Ela said, taking the mug from Henriette. “He’s spending more time with books than with people.”

“He does,” Pamfil interjected carelessly, throwing the remark in Henriette’s direction.

Henriette gave him a sly smile.

“You know Haralambie?” Ela asked, turning to the new visitor with curiosity.

“Heard this and that about him,” Pamfil responded, his words slipping out slowly, carefully as he appraised Ela’s soft chestnut eyes and thick eyebrows, her dark ringlets, and her petite body, inviting in a flattering dress and waist-length cardigan. His eyes lingered a moment too long on her breasts.

“Sorry, where are my manners?” Henriette blurted. “Ela, this my friend Pamfil. Pamfil, this is Ela, my very good friend.”

The two guests shook hands, their faces lit up by smiles.

Henriette looked around the room, pretending to ponder the exhibition. Her gaze returned to the heart sculpture. “So you recognized one of my pieces,” she said to Ela, while the latter sipped her hot, minty brew. “Here’s another,” she went on, pointing her guests to a Janus-faced flattened head kissing a woman on each side.

Pamfil spent a moment taking in the work. “Cute. You must have really enjoyed shrinking this guy’s brain,” he teased.

“Is that revenge on someone from your past?” Ela asked.

Henriette bypassed her friends’ last remarks. “How’s your tea, Ela?”

“Great.”

“Girls, I have to bow out,” Pamfil said. “It was nice seeing you, Ettie.”

Henriette couldn’t restrain a smirk.

Pamfil put out a hand to Ela. “Nice meeting you, Ela.”

When she and Henriette had also departed, Ela turned to her friend. “That guy, Pamfil . . .” she started. “He’s rather handsome.”

“He is,” Henriette affirmed.

“How do you know him?” Ela asked.

“We met at a party.”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s okay,” Henriette responded, a little disconcerted.

“I’d like to meet him again,” Ela said.

From Poets, Artists, Lovers: A Novel. Your vote on Kindle Scout would be much appreciated—and if the book is selected for publication with Kindle Press, you will receive a free copy. 

On Art, Music, and Lovers

Mira Tudor_Poets, Artists, Lovers. A Novel_ebook cover_blog_sm

“Why are you always leaving your things in the middle of the floor?” Haralambie asked. His girlfriend didn’t respond, so he stepped out of the kitchen into their living room.

He had left her writing up a statement for some of her recent sculptures. Now he found her stretching in her chair, her fingers woven through her long, wavy red hair. She gave him a rueful look and then settled back to get on with her work at the computer.

“Henriette, this is not just your studio. I live here too,” he said with a sigh. He crouched to gather her latest clay pieces, her sculpting utensils and plastic sheets, and took them to the balcony. Henriette helped, but halfheartedly. Her mind was on the blurb she was drafting that morning. She said as much to Haralambie, but her focus had already shifted, so when he returned to the kitchen to finish his coffee and smoke another cigarette, she put on a sixties rock ballad. Soon she was swaying gently to and fro, swinging her arms around gracefully, and twirling her hands up in the air—until she noticed Haralambie’s tall, slim body leaning against the doorframe.

“Is that what it’s like at those parties of yours?” he asked.

“No, but that’s how I like it sometimes,” she responded provocatively, a wicked smile on her lips.

Haralambie walked over to her, cupped her face in his hands, and planted a kiss on her lips. “You’re not sixteen anymore, Henriette, and you know it.”

From Poets, Artists, Lovers: A Novel. Your vote on Kindle Scout would be much appreciated—and if the book is selected for publication with Kindle Press, you will receive a free copy. 

Poets, Artists, Lovers: A Novel

Mira Tudor_Poets, Artists, Lovers. A Novel_ebook cover_blog

Hi everyone,

My Kindle Scout campaign for my book Poets, Artists, Lovers: A Novel has started!

If you like to read about art, music, tight friendships, and lovers who’d like to think of themselves as rational, I have the right book for you 🙂 

If you nominate my book and it gets selected for publication with Kindle Press, you’ll receive a free copy once the campaign ends. Your vote would mean a lot!

Textile Tuesday: Serena Garcia Dalla Venezia

Textile work from Chilean artist Serena Garcia Dalla Venezia

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Welcome to the first Textile Tuesday! I love this much underappreciated medium and want to broadcast as many textile artists as I can to the world.

First up is Serena Garcia Dalla Venezia. With hand sewn work that ranges from palm-sized to full installation, her textile work is exquisite. The color combinations from each series are dreamy and each piece is just want to curl up next to. The repetition of shape, form, and color is calming and each piece, while soft and puffy, also gives off a definitive feeling of stability and solidness. Overall, each piece reads as being completely organic in both shape and form. Even though they’re laboriously hand sewn, each looks like it has been plucked from a vivid colorful natural world.

Check out all of Venezia’s work on her website.

All images are the property of Serena Garcia Dalla Venezia.

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Remember him? Gerhard Richter, Eisberg (1982)

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By Lukas UhdeOwn work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Link

Gerhard Richter’s Eisberg (1982) sold for £17.7 million (20,4 million) at Sotheby’s in London on March 8 this year, setting the record for the most expensive landscape painting sold at auction.

I can’t show you Richter’s painting (see the link above), but here’s another nice iceberg from Wikimedia Commons.

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By Ansgar Walk – photo taken by Ansgar Walk, CC BY-SA 2.5, Link

Wolfgang Tillmans’s Photos

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Wolfgang Tillmans, Freischwimmer 26, 2003
Source: Wikimedia Commons [no higher-res image available]

On March 6 at Christie’s contemporary art auction in London, Wolfgang Tillmans sold his photo Freischwimmer 186 (2011) for £269,000 (approx. $329,000). It’s a marvelous piece of work. You can see it on artnet.

For more on the German-born, London-based fine-art photographer, 2000 winner of the Turner Prize, see his gallery on artnet.

The Smells of Central Park in October, in a Museum

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Central Park in the Fall. Photo by Thomas Julin [CC BY 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

For its Design Triennial in 2015, the Smithsonian’s Cooper Hewitt National Design Museum commissioned Sissel Tolaas, smell artist, researcher, and chemist, to create a scratch-and-sniff wall releasing various scents of Central Park. Tolaas’s work for this piece involved a week of roaming through the Park gathering samples—she chose the month of October—, which she then analyzed in order to reproduce their scent molecules. The next steps were to microencapsulate the latter and embed them in a special paint she used to coat a wall. She titled her installation The Beauty of Decay: SmellScape Central Park, as by October plants in the park are already decaying. The wall was meant to encompass the complex experience of walking through the whole 843 acres of Central Park.

I like the idea. I can see its appeal for someone like Sissel Tolaas, who has collected and created thousands of smells, and I imagine that in the future businesses will be quite busy designing scents for movies and other leisure venues. As long as they act like Proust’s madeleine to remind people of their experiences in the real world, it’s all good.