Monday, January 9

See you February 6...

I'm going to blog monthly for a while, with posts beginning on the first Mondays of the month, so I can focus on my "long-form" writing, as they call it. I have a number of essays that need some attention, and I can't wait to hole up and work.

Check back in a few weeks to see my Nana in Michigan or a gallery/home Kansas or maybe Tuxedo Park, New York, or...? I'll still be on Twitter and Facebook and, when I remember, Tumblr, and you're welcome to Follow or RT or Friend or Like.  

For now, please enjoy cake pops and Lucian Freud from my recent visit with author Adele Griffin, whose Brooklyn townhouse provides for some seriously glorious snooping.

Sunday, January 8

Dinner party in Chelsea

Friends Azi and Carrie hosted a fabulous dinner party last night--candles; wine; strands of pearls; tea candles (the lotus above reminded me of sculptures by Lee Bontecou (below), whose new work is currently at Freedman Gallery); Tom & Jerry water glasses; a perfectly cooked turkey that Carrie won when she blazed a Turkey Trot; lively guests, including a hedge fund manager whom I heard say worked in "mismanagement" (he actually said "risk management," ahem); an artist; a yoga teacher; Carrie singing Bryan Adams ballads in Chinese at 2 am; Azi with pens in his shirt pocket; flowers from Trader Joe's; not one but two kinds of potatoes; a full moon and full belly on the warm walk home.

Friday, January 6

Little girl's room

This little girl's room had me longing for single-digit age. In particular I fell for the giraffe in the corner, an eternal guest at the knee-high tea party. Other highlights: beautiful wallpaper in the bathroom (walking with geese and other country antics); a scalloped bookshelf; a piggy and crewelwork; pale pinkness; chifforobe; little girl things.

Thursday, January 5

Figment & a fur

Book party! As I mentioned earlier, Young Adult author Adele Griffin was hosting this event at her home for another YA author, Blake Nelson, whose novel Dream School was published by Figment in early December. Guests flooded the townhouse, while Edith, above, on all fours, stood guard of the desserts, as well as her buddy Blake, who was giving a toast. That's Adele, below left, with her friend, author Courtney Sheinmel.

Also below: A photo of the tops of people's heads, because I don't like posting faces without approval (plus, so many cocktails napkins and hors d'oeuvres and open mouths!); A. N. Devers in her famous fur coat once owned by Edward Gorey; one of many foursomes; "Hold still, Rob Spillman, I'm zooming to get a close-up of your flowers;" men and women alike, we all tried on that Gorey coat; we emptied the hot toddies, too; gift bags, yesss; a goodbye from the street.

Tuesday, January 3

A moment with a doorknob...

When I walked into the living room, which I prefer to call the salon, I turned to put down my wine glass--on the marble-top table, yes, where the lamp's bear base (below) stood serious guard--and the doorknob caught my eye. It caught my eye because it was though it had moved, which it didn't, but I was moving, catching the knob in the light at different angles, and I realized it wasn't opaque but was translucent crystal the color of ox blood (or Pinot Noir, depending on the references). I knew this door knob! Oh...

Years ago, I was an editor at Western Interiors & Design, a wonderful, now defunct, contemporary design magazine (with an unfortunate name; the investors were already in). I produced a product column, calling in samples of new flooring, tiles, door hardware, what have you, and styling the shoot. I requested this specific doorknob from E. R. Butler & Co. in this specific shade. The knobs were so stunning, with their subtly shifting color, it turned out to be one of my favorite columns ever. How I hated returning this knob, folding it into tissue and sending it off in drab cardboard. I haven't forgotten its surprising heft, like holding the world in your hand.

I've examined the facets and the shank and the beveled escutcheon plate and everything, so I'm pretty sure it's a Butler, and resident Adele Griffin said her architects at Meyer Davis Studio were very excited about using them, too. Besides, Butler's patent on the attachment of a denticulated crystal knob to a keystoned brass socket dates to the 1830s, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.

I wandered around. A casual gorgeous weapon adorns a bookshelf; dimmer sconces; this awesome drawing by singer-songwriter-musician-artist Daniel Johnston of Hi, How Are You; leaves; pup Edith in downward dog; another one of those lovely chairs with crossed legs, ladylike.