JESSE SUBLETT’S “COLORFUL WOMEN” ART EXHIBIT, HELD OVER UNTIL MARCH 6 (Last night). Show features my “Colorful Women” pieces which debuted at Yard Dog in December. Also some special Valentine-themed pieces, plus psychedelic fish, supernatural birds, and some strange men, such as the Lunar Gigolo, Satanic Rabbit and of course, Moose Malloy. Prices range, for the very small pieces (3.5″ x 5.5″) at $125 up to $500 for the largest (48″ x 24″). By the way, these pieces make great Valentines gifts for the one you adore, or for dear old Mom, or the affection-substitute of your choosing.
Tag Archives: moleskine
Visualize a party: Beer, a little music, hip people and naked women covering the walls. This is what you will find at Yard Dog, that super hip gallery on South Congress Avenue in Austin, when my show opens on FRIDAY, DECEMBER 3, at 7 PM.
Here are some of the pieces you will see by me. My “COLORFUL WOMEN” show opens Friday, December 3.
Ah, yes, on Sunday, November 7, 5-7 PM, come to BookPeople for the Austin publication party for LONE STAR NOIR, a fabulous anthology of crime fiction by Texas authors like… yours truly, plus James Crumley, Joe Lansdale, Bobby Byrd, Tim Tingle, Sarah Cortez, George Weir, and many, many more. This is the latest in the Akashic “Noir” anthology series. Edited by the supercool Bobby & Johnny Byrd of Cinco Puntos fame. There will be beer, authors, a little music (as in murder ballads, by, uh, yours truly) and other cool stuff.
A few new photo images of Mata Hari today, all by Wallery, I think. You will find a blurb of info on Mata Hari, plus some additional images, on this page about propaganda cardsin the Great War.
Actually, more to the point today, I’ve been working with some new pens on my abstract women and also working on birds. For a person who derives a lot of inspiration & whatever from birds, I am terrible at drawing them, but I hope to get better. The images of oiled pelicans and other waterfowl from the Gulf make me ill and I tend to turn the TV off when they start running the small amount of footage that those capitalist dogs BP somehow allowed to slip through to the media. But I digress. Anyhow, birds are on my mind and some of these are crude first attempts to draw pelicans, the others are some kind of dark spirit thing and I won’t digress further on what they mean.
It was a fool’s errand, I know, but we caught some good jazz at Andy’s Nightclub, where the music is good but the cheeseburgers, which are about $25, make you think, Well, at least the music is good.
The W hotel is nice, but some of the new agey touches bring out the juvenile in me, I guess. Particularly the coasters in the room which say: “What are you thinking right now? Write it down!” I could not bring myself to write anything, since I was supposed to be a writer on vacation, sort of, so I drew it instead.
The hotel bar as you can see is pretty swinging. I took several pix of this weary briefcase road warrior because I thought it would make a good drawing later. Haven’t gotten to it yet.
We were there as chaperones for the Khabele School Jazz 3 ensemble, which totally rocked a party thrown by Bill Escamilla, the father of Marshall Escamilla, the Khabele music instructor and, as a Chicago native, our host. The party was in Bill’s 19th floor condo downtown. What a view!
Here we have a guest at the party wearing a tie that matches the painting in Bill’s condo. I never found out the name of the artist, but I like it.
The beer & wine were kept cool in an ice chest on the balcony. On one trip out there a kind woman, I think one of the opera singers who were there, kicking up their heels at the Khabele band’s gypsy jazz, excused herself. No problem, I said, I’m not going to run over you just to get a cold beer. She laughed & said, Well, I would understand if you did. I said, “Now, if they had some Scotch whiskey out here, I would’ve thrown you off the balcony.” They had some cool people at that party. On another trip outside I met a guy whose wife is writing a history of Bridgeport, which is where all the hot shot Chicago mayors & etc. have come from. He told me why, in a nutshell history of the city, dating back to the French explorers. Why you only learn these kinds of things while imbibing alcohol at night, I don’t know, but it was cool.
It was a grand trip. No one fell off the balcony. We stood in line for 2 hours waiting for the elevator to the top of the Sears Tower. I wonder if it would take less time to take the stairs? The view at night is supercool, but it made me homesick for the view of Los Angeles & the San Fernando Valley from the top of Mulholland Drive.
Don’t forget, this Friday (April 23) is the night of Jesse Sublett & Jon Dee Graham’s Murder Ballad Show at Evangeline Cafe. Details here.
Thursday June 10: Howlin Wolf’s 99th Birthday Tribute Show at the Continental Club Austin!! Details here.
Do not forget, Jesse Sublett & Jon Dee Graham present their MURDER BALLAD SHOW at Evangeline Cafe Friday night, April 23. 10 PM to Midnight, featuring Terri Lord on drums + songs you will hear NOWHERE ELSE.
And a collection of recent tweets:
The 2nd Amendment People, scared someone will take they’re guns, also glad it’s #2 because after 3, they get real confused.
Bad news: 3/5 of Tea Party members think Obama is an alien (non-US citizen). Good news: the other 2/5 thinks they are Klingons.
GOP used to talk about being a “big tent” party; unfortunately the tent looks like a KKK hood.
Good ole Dixie GOP in NOLA at Southern Leadership Conference. Doin’ a heckuva job, Whitey!
Gov. McDonnell revises “Confederacy of Dunces” But some GOP say the flap made a “mountain of a molehill”
VA Gov. McDonnell’s idea of “moderate” Confederate History Month: only acknowledge those owning 3 slaves or less. Mighty White (Supremacist) of you, bubba.
Next thing you know John McCain will claim that James Garner was never a Maverick either.
Virginia Governor wants to celebrate slavery, treason, war, death, destruction, repression & genocide.
Confederate History Month in Virginia? Can’t wait for Nazi History Month, Black Plague Appreciation Week, etc.
Tea Party Hero Ron Paul: The KKK has always loved him. Now why would that be?
Number one goal of shrinking federal government & restoring “state’s rights”: So that their kids don’t have to go to school with black kids, all-white neighborhoods, all white jobs, etc.
New stuff, in time for spring, I guess, as the trees are budding and SXSW is in full swing. The buds just opened on our cedar elms and the little burr oak has got them, too. Yesterday a big male cardinal was in the very top of the tallest tree behind our house singing so loud it almost rattled the windows.
Did you ever wonder what happened to the musicians who used to play 120 decibel rock at the punk clubs like Raul’s in Austin or the Rat in Boston or CBGB in NY or Blackie’s in LA? Well, I’m one of them and here I am. I write crime novels, nonfiction, and still, after all these years, lots of songs. I still play, most often with my Murder Ballad Show ensemble, featuring myself, Jon Dee Graham and Terri Lord on drums, or Kory Cook or someone else. And as you can see here, I draw a lot.
Have a good SXSW and don’t forget about my gig on Saturday, in case you’re interested, it’s High Noon at Antone’s Records with the Murder Ballad Show, featuring me, Jon Dee Graham & Terri Lord.
UPDATE 12.4.12: This is a post from 3 years ago, which has proven to be my most-read post since I started blogging, even topping my post-election 2012 post titled: “How to tell if your mother is on crack” [A: She's unhappy and surprised how the election turned out], which got 815 reads almost immediately. This one got posted on one of those vintage erotica tumblr blogs and really keeps readers coming. I realize it’s not because of my popularity, my writing or songwriting! But seriously, I just now noticed that during one of the technical upgrades, those many photos of Mata Hari I used to have on my Mata Hari blogs got lost in the shuffle. I’m putting them back up. Here’s the first batch.
I was supposed to be somewhere else but my mind started to wander so I wandered off to get some coffee. Really good coffee, as it turned out. A double shot espresso with golden brown crema flecked with tiger tail stripes. Very good, very, very good. You could taste the beans from the ancient valleys of Ethiopia, the cradle of coffee. A pocket full of centuries in every sip. So there were these four girls sitting in the booth across from me and I began to draw. Yes, they wore clothes. Drawing clothes is not one of my specialties.
Three of the girls were busy talking about something they had found on the internet. They all had their laptops. But girl number four was reading a book, of all things. She was the best looking. I kept trying to draw her. None of these pictures look very much like her.
But in a sense, these are all pictures of her, because I was trying, right? I was looking at her, and drawing her, so she’s in there somewhere. Then the fish intruded. No, it wasn’t raining that hard, but there they were. The first one said: Federico. The second one said: Garcia. The third one said: Lorca. Federico Garcia Lorca.
And then SHE shows up. Of all the espresso bars in all the towns in all the world. Mata. Hari. There she is.
I have a thing for Mata Hari. Great story. Her real name was Margaretha Geertruida “Grietje” Zelle. “Mata Hari” means “eye of the sun,” as in sunrise, or whatever you want it to mean. She was a courtesan, a term that has somewhat fallen out of use. Whatta gal. Last spring I rented the Greta Garbo movie, read a play and a novel and a biography of her. I’d love to write a new play about her myself. Maybe I will. This will have to suffice for now. An exotic dancer, a self-made woman who continually reinvented herself, she made Madonna look like a wannabe, an amateur, a piker. She was executed for being a spy October 15, 1917, which will be 92 years ago this week. Coincidentally. Was she really a spy? She was more victim and scapegoat than spy, but she ferried intrigue like George Jones throws off twang. Mostly she was misunderstood. Myth and rumor swirl around her like almost nobody else. People can’t even agree on what she wore to her execution, even though there are photographs. She probably wouldn’t even be famous if not for the Greta Garbo movie, which is mostly made up and a flimsy shadow of the real story.
There are some great pictures of Mata Hari on the Internet. That gal was something else. By the way, she married an abusive jerk in the Dutch army who was posted to the Dutch East Indies, where rumors roiled about her supposed promiscuity and she learned many of her skills in exotica. Just so happens that the Dutch East Indies was one of the very early stops on the migration of the coffee bean from its African birthplace. They got some good coffee there.