February 11
Laura Padgett introduced me to Kai Middendorff   last night and suggested I go to the Finissage or closing party at his eponymous gallery tonight.  Well, I just showered and put on make-up and decided not to go.  It's cold and snow on the ground. I've watched people from the balcony walking tentatively over the icey sidewalk. It's dark, I'm not sure of the terrain and since falling on the ice last year and shattering my wrist, I am terrified of slipping and falling.  There is a metal plate in my wrist and I am still paying for the operation. I have a nice salad and pasta from yesterday in the fridge.  I will have a lovely dinner here and do something artistic to appease the art gods for neglecting the public sacrament of "support for fellow artists".  So forgive me Neil Beloufa, I was so looking forward to meeting you and seeing your work. Perhaps another time.  Here is his image of a figure in tropical foliage reproduced on his card.  He is a young (25 for chrissakes) French Algerian with a pretty impressive CV. He's shown in New York, London. Paris and all over, been in a lot of film festivals.  

Actually, there is another artist represented by Kai Middendorff  whose work also fascinates me.  He is a Turkish artist Ekrem Yalcindag.  Kai mentioned him when I met him last night and on the website I see why.  His vast wall painting "Red" is amazing.

It really touches that obsessive compulsive nerve. Especially one of his hexagon pieces which reminded me of my geometric compulsions, although mine is of the cluttery obsessive compulsive hoarding variety and his seems to be the obsessive compulsive neat freak version.

Ekrem Yalcindag, Schlob Balomral
oil on linen, 2001

 Nancy Lunsford Preface. det
drawing and collage, 2007









And so here I am, eating my salad in C & B's German kitchen.  With cherry tomatoes, lettuce and carrots from the Turkish market. 

February 10 Frankfurt
Went to the Hauptbahnhof, the main train station, today to get a train ticket for Vallauris and decided instead to fly.  Fying is cheaper and the train is a 10 hour ordeal with no ability to check my luggage. A no brainer.   I am bringing some tools with me for clay and the tool box is tucked into a larger suitcase. A heavy load to drag around on a train with a transfer in Paris.

Frankfurt is a financial center in Europe and not particularly known for it's art scene but there are some great museums and galleries here if for no other reason than that it is a financial center.
This evening I went to see a Botticelli exhibit at the Staedel Museum .  Met my sisters friend, Laura Padgett  an artist who studied painting at Pratt but who is an accomplished photographer.  

Laura Padgett "Porcelain from the V&A"

Laura took me  afterwards to an opening at another venue.  The show was titled "Transzendent" .  Of the three artists, Daniel Schumann interested me.  He had portrait photographs of patients in a hospice.  He photographed them over time as their health deteriorated and they approached death.  The work was quiet and gentle, the subjects were posed formally and although the theme was grim, there was gentleness and dignity.  The color palette was delicate, muted, many of the scenes suffused with light.  The Botticelli palette was still in my minds eye.

Now back in the apartment, a light supper and settling in for the night. Hope to finally get a normal night's sleep.  I am attaching images captured in photo booth on my computer of  the large black and white photographs here in C's dining room.  In the first, the computer screen is reflected in the glass (and in my eye glass) and the second, across the room from this photo, is a series of photos of two young boys playing or fighting a kind of capoeira. The artist is Miguel Rio Branco.

There is small Will McBride piece too high to photograph. Will McBride is an incredible photographer, painter and sculptor, an American based in Germany.  He has been working for years on on a huge installation of sculpture and paintings called "No War! Monument"

Will McBride putting on the patina for "Harry Dome"

February 9 Tuesday
There are a few things that mar this idyll. First, it's cold outside. 25 degrees farenheit today, a low of 17. One of the main reasons I sought a residency in winter was to get away from the cold. The decision to come here first before heading south to Vallauris was to hang out with C & B. It turns out they had planned to be away for their own escape from the cold. A bit of miss- communication that really is ok as I love being alone and while I am in their apartment I am in a way in their presence anyway. The problem is cold. When it's cold and you are with someone, you don't notice it so much. Cold and alone means an unwillingness to venture out of the apartment except for necessities.

The other glitch is my knees and the fact that the apartment is up many flights of stairs. On the third floor but with the high ceilings, it is a double flight for each level. Out the kitchen and bedroom windows there are trees in the back garden that in full leaf give the apartment the feel of a tree house. But it's winter now and the branches are bare. The view is of the backs of other houses with empty balconies with dried plants. A bit desolate in a romantic kind of way. Occasionally one sees movement and life behind a dimly lit window.


I discovered an old painting of mine in their bathroom. Several people have put my work in their bathrooms. There is something about my small funny or erotic nudes that suit a bathroom. It doesn't bother me. Everyone goes to the bathroom. It's a very public, yet intimate, space. This one is from my distorted sensual phase about 15 years ago. I painted it to be hung vertically or horizontally, variable, like a couple in bed.

February 8
I went shopping for food today, there is a market very close by. I saw the bright bins of oranges from the balcony.
The fresh fruit and vegetable markets are run by Turks. Since I speak very little German and passable Turkish, I had little trouble finding what I needed. They tossed in a free clementine and directed me to another Turkish market a short distance away where I could buy yogurt and zeytin ezmesi, olive paste, from a plump rosy cheeked cashier with a headscarf who answered in German when I asked her something in Turkish then laughed when I said I couldn't understand her. A good many of the taxi drivers are Turkish as well. I can come and go and eat and not even need to speak German. Although danke and bitte and wo ist...? come in handy.

February 8 Monday
Arrived yesterday in Frankfurt. Staying in C. and B.'s apartment while they are on a jaunt to south Africa or somewhere. Met by C's friend P. who gave me a brief tour of the neighborhood and instructed me in the necessary things about life in my sister's apartment: how to open windows, flush the toilet and turn on the stove. It is fantastic here. Her apartment is like a museum with a very personal, eclectic selection of great photographs. Her kitchen has been remodeled since i was last here many years ago. Then it was like my grandmother's kitchen in Appalachia: a deep sink and a stove but no built-in cabinets, just some rickety tables and cluttered shelves. The place is beautiful now. New floors and a new kitchen. Now all they need is a new toilet. One thing is missing from the bathroom that I remember. She has photographs everywhere but the last time I was here there was a photograph of nude ball players, including Pele, all showering in a locker room.


































Tiny strange stuffed creature in the bookcase...

You can take the girl out of the Land o' Cotton but you can't take the cotton outta the girl...

Hurrah!! Who Dat?
The Saints go Marchin' in...

Super Bowl Victory!!!

February 1
Shopping on the street with the gang. E. got earmuffs. I got a hat and gloves and Tomi got a hat to match her scarf. Later, at MarieBelle's Cacao shop (where I got the most fantastic Aztec spicy hot chocolate made with water, not milk) E. K. took pains to pose his sister with her head tilted toward the heart on the table behind us. This young teenager patiently instructed her like a high fashion photographer "tilt your head a little more... relax your left cheek..."