Dallas winter doldrums had set in. The chill. The gloom. The precipitation that's neither snow, nor sleet, nor rain, nor ice but manages to be very slippery and turns a dog walk into a death march. I needed something new. Something perky. Something to get me through it all.
I should have been content with having my one-act play, "Ghost Dog Whisperer," earn a slot in the TeCo Theatrical Productions New Play Competition. (It's running at Bishop Arts Theater through February 27.) But no. That didn't do it.
In January, after six months of looking at enormous cardboard moving boxes, Paul and I finally unpacked my larger artworks and hung them on the wall. "Leda," a lithograph by Italian-born French artist Rene Gruau, now enlivens the huge blank wall of our rental home. It's like having an old friend back again. Her sultry, come-hither glance, her gloved arm with bare shoulder slung seductively over the couch, her casually draped ermine stole... Is she naked on the other side of that dazzling red couch? Or is she wearing a fabulous Dior gown? If she stood up, would we notice anything besides her ridiculously oversized swan hat anyway?
Alas, not even Leda's wiles could overcome my winter blahs.
I patrolled local thrift and antique shops. Nothing. There was a brief flicker of excitement when I stumbled upon a set of restyled ice blue Casual China by Russel Wright at the consignment shop on Forest Lane, but none of the interesting pieces (a gumbo bowl, a soup bowl, a 2-qt. casserole) were priced. As soon as I showed interest, the Nice Lady came by with a price gun and marked them at antique store prices. I walked away. "Do you know what these are?" asked the Nice Lady, clearly shocked that my interest had vanished. "Oh yes," I replied. What I didn't say: "So I know that I can get them cheaper on eBay, you opportunistic harridan."
Fortunately, two things resulted from my quest: I found a lovely gift for Paul for our third anniversary (crystal and glass, according to the modern method of celebrating such things). Paul loves Iittala glass from Finland. Having grown up with a set Tapio Wirkkala "Ultima Thule" glassware, I have an appreciation for it as well. (I remember Dad drinking his orange juice out of the slender, icicle-like juice glasses growing up, and, in later years, Mom sipping Chivas out of a lowball.) I stumbled on a dealer at Forestwood Antique Mall who had a bevy of vintage Iittala. I felt instinctively that Paul would enjoy a Timo Sarpaneva "Festivo" candlestick. The rough molded glass looks like it was hewn from a block of ice, except for the top, which is smooth and clear like the surface of a frozen lake. It has terrific presence, and the wintry look of the glass contrasts beautifully with the promised warmth of a taper.
For myself, I had to resort to the Interwebs. I managed to source two spectacular pieces of Red Wing "Spruce" dinnerware: an oversize 12" salad bowl and a stick-handled covered casserole.
Designed by Charles Murphy, "Spruce" is an elusive line. With serving pieces that rise off the table on little tripod feet, they evoke a certain late 1950s swank that some call "Sputnik Modern." The pattern - a handpainted series of abstract, eye-like shapes on a blue speckled ground - is unlike any other Red Wing pattern. A while back, I had the chance to buy a Spruce water pitcher from my friend Todd, but passed, thinking it would only make me want to collect the whole line. He thought that was silly of me -- why not just buy a representative piece or two for display? That thought haunted me ever since: A), because it was a way I hadn't viewed the world before ("You don't have to have a service for eight to collect a thing?") and B) because I really really wanted me some Spruce. Finding these two items at a great price, I could not let the opportunity pass again. They are striking!
