Mathia sent me some nice new art, including this portrait of our favorite cold fish.

Doug, Emma, and I had a great time at Comic Con. The company, the con, and the hotel were all delightful.

The Marriott was dog friendly, and we aren't quite ready to trust Emma left on her own for long periods of time, even with our great pet sitter coming in three times a day, so she went with us.

The beds were very comfy:


And room service was divine:



The Friday afternoon signings went very well. Thanks to all you LJ people who introduced yourself. I signed for over an hour and two very special fans—Kristina Slay and Marina Martinez— presented me with a Nightrunneropoly game they made for me! Picture to come.




On Saturday we cruised the huge convention hall. It wasn't quite as overwhelming as last year. Maybe gas prices kept some people home. It was still plenty crowded though.

At one point in the afternoon, I was thrilled to be in the same room as my hero, Ray Bradbury. The ballroom was packed and he got several standing ovations. The sense of love from several thousand people is something you must experience to understand. And I was so happy to see so many people feeling the same way I do about him. That's him on the right, partially obscured by the water jug.





He's old and frail, and wheelchair bound now, but his spirit is strong and he gave a spirited interview. He urged people to do everything they do out of a sense of love. He spoke of being a graduate "of the library." He told some war stories about working in Hollywood. When they opened the floor for Q&A, I was the first to go. I have no idea what I said, except I'm pretty sure I professed my love, or what his answer was. I have never had such a reaction to anyone-- weak in the knees, lump in the throat excited and overwhelmed. I came within inches of getting a book signed, but the handlers ended the session after only a few moments. Probably more than the old gentleman was up to.

The pre panel signing was also good. Got to hang out with David Keck, my editor Anne Groell's hubby, and a writer, as well. He'd as nice and as funny a man as you'd hope to meet, but then, he's Canadian.

Our "Playing God" panel, which included Jim Butcher, went great, with lots of good questions.

A leisurely dinner with David and Anne rounded out the evening. If you're ever in San Diego and want an elegant meal in an elegant setting, Molly's at the Marriott at the Marina is a great choice.

Sunday Doug and I hurried over to stand in line for about half an hour with a couple thousand people to see the producers and cast of Futurama speak. It was well worth it. Matt Groening and co. are a funny bunch, and it was neat to see the voice talent speaking in the voices of the characters. The fellow who plays Bender seems to be very Bender-like himself. We'd planned to stay for the Simpsons panel, but when it turned out to be a bunch of producers, we left with roughly half the rest of the audience.

After that we went in search of the booth where some artwork by Ray Bradbury was on display. On the way there we saw Jonathan Frakes signing things, and stumbled across a huge booth of a Chicago fine arts dealer, who specializes in the work of art nouveau artists. The prints were originals and in terrific shape and we ended up buying a small original Alphonse Mucho (see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alphonse_Mucha) print called "Gismonda". The original was huge, and a poster for a production of "Gismonda," starring and produced by the divine Miss Sarah Bernhardt (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarah_Bernhardt) at her theater. Who knew?

I didn't know it at the time, but this was the piece was the one that made him famous, and established him as the creator of the Art Nouveau style. In addition to being a very prolific artist, he designed the first stamps and money for the newly established Czechoslovakia and was among the first to be interrogated by the Gestapo when Germany invaded Czechoslovakia.

I asked the dealer, a very dapper man in an elegant suit, how he came to be at something as incongruous as Comic Con with famous art nouveau pieces, German arts posters and the like. Apparently he does an excellent business there each year. Many of the actor guests buy things, as well as shoppers for west coast customers.

Truly a very interesting convention. Hope to be back next year, signing The White Road.

Off to work now. Have art to pay for.

I have a signed numbered Michalopoulos print over my fireplace (discovered on my one and only visit, so far, to the Big Easy), and one of his food and wine posters in my kitchen. Go to his site. Bathe in the colors! The original canvasses are huge!





MICHALOPOULOS GALLERY
JAZZ FEST ARTIST RECEPTIONS
April 26th & May 3rd
6-9pm
Live Entertainment
Old New Orleans Rum Bar
617 Bienville Street
New Orleans, LA 70130
504-558-0505
www.michalopoulos.com

Michalopoulos is best known for his distinctive architectural renderings. Kevin Allman writes of his architecture, “They slope, soar and sway. Some of them rear back on their foundations, or lurch drunkenly over cracked sidewalks; others dip their balconies over the street curiously.” His representations seem to have a life of their own. There is a palpable energy and mystery in these highly original and much copied works. Also, Michalopoulos has earned a reputation for the unique musicality of his paintings. They are at once a mystical abstraction and a powerful evocation of the subjects' spirit.

Uh, in case you haven't worked it out, I'm a bit of a fan. I found his studio and marveled at the massive canvasses and incredibly intense, saturated colors. They condense down to prints well.


Hmm. According to Mapquest, it's only a 26 hour, 1800+ mile drive . . . Oh well.

Twenty three years ago, I took a job in Alexandria VA and had my very own cubicle to decorate. I bought an art print from a catalog called Ronin Gallery in NY. Moving art around the house today, I found a good spot for it in the living room. Even after all these years, it never fails to please me. And all the more so in this snowless clime. Even though it's another country, I know that snow by the size of the flakes and the way it coats the branches and tree trunk. Wet snow. Snowman snow.



Zojo Temple at Shiba in Snow Woodblock Print
Hasui, 1925

Another interesing bit gleaned from the 'net.

Louis Wain, a 19th/early 20th century artist, experienced late onset schizophrenia, and his artwork shows the shift in perception.

http://instruct1.cit.cornell.edu/Courses/nbb421/student2003/epl8/Blank%20Page%202.htm

This came up in another newsgroup. During the government's LSD experiments in the 50's, an artist was given a dose and asked to draw a portrait over and over again as the drug affected him. It's quite interesting, both the artwork and the commentary, but by no means meant to be an endorsement by me for taking acid!

http://www.cowboybooks.com.au/html/acidtrip1.html