Off to airport now

I hope it won't be a long, long, disappointing travel day. Heavy fog here, rain all over the South and I'm routed through Atlanta to begin with. With a very short correspondence for my trans-Atlantic flight. Keep your fingers crossed that all goes smoothly for me and I don't have delays or miss my connection because of the weather.

Over and out for me, and I hope I return with a whole new set of tales of adventure and discovery in Paris!

Photos of the things in my carry-on

Packing light for Paris in October

Reader Gretchen asked me to elaborate on what I'm packing for Paris, since it will all fit into a large handbag and hopefully take me through ten days' activities without having to do laundry. I hoped to be able to photograph the contents of my carry-on and post it, but, alas! I've run out of time before I depart.

So here's the list, and the vendor, if it's new and I remember.
-- From J. Crew current season (I'm their poster child!), two pairs skinny leg corduroy jeans in light grey and dark, graphite grey; one pair I wear on the plane, the other I pack.
-- J. Crew: long, cardigan sweater, graphite grey, ruffle trim along v-front.
-- This season's J. Crew again, Tissue t, long-sleeved, deep v-necked, a kind of orchid/pink bright flower color.
-- Burgundy grosgrain trimmed scoop neck, long-sleeved J. Crew top.
-- Three racer-back tissue tank tops, to be worn under long graphite ruffled cardigan like a camisole or over jeans or with skirt: mauve (American Apparel), orchid (Urban Outfitters), hot pink (Urban Outfitters)
-- Black jersey pencil skirt, knee length with back vent, Boston Proper travel line
-- Black perforated (like eyelet) very sexy stretchy long-sleeved, button down shirt with French cuffs, Anne Fontaine 2008 season
-- Black racer-back tank top (American Apparel)
-- Black Hermès belt, narrow with silver hook buckle -- many seasons past
-- Silver Coach across-the-body smallish square silver metallic zip purse, this season
-- One striped, jersey, French Apache-dancer-looking mini dress by Make + Model from the lingerie section of Nordstrom, which I can wear to sleep in or as a robe, or as a dress with the leggings underneath or as a top over jeans: grey and navy stripes, lace-up bodice
-- Graphite Hue super opaque leggings, new this season
-- Black Repetto BB ballet flats
-- One pair herringbone crochet thigh-high black stockings purchased in Florence last winter
-- Nike trainers -- some kind of high-tech silver/grey mesh -- very comfortable; couple of pair socklets, which I'll wash out by hand.
-- One Missoni scarf in silver/grey/mauve/purple flamestitch (2006? season)
-- Silk flowers to pin on or wear in hair: purple, orchid, hot pink
-- One long string of pearls and earrings to match it
-- 3 pairs mesh panties to hand-wash; I'll wear a nude bra, pack a black one
-- Evening clutch, into which are packed the jewelery, my hairpins and elastics and my undies
-- Silver mesh travel umbrella
-- Driving gloves, tobacco colored (Madova, Florence)
-- Short, quilted black zip-front riding jacket, very trim-fitting although down-filled, purchased in Switzerland last season

On the plane I'll wear one pair of the cord jeans, one top, one of the belts, the Repetto ballet flats for ease of passing through security and wear or carry the jacket, and I'll wear my everyday silver jewelery: hoops, ring, bracelet and diamond solitaire necklace

How I'll put it together --
For high-end shopping, the opera, cocktails etc:
Black skirt+black tank+Hermès belt, low-slung = little black dress (jacket over it, Repettos and maybe textured black stockings)
For sight-seeing/museums/shopping: Black skirt+any colored top+long ruffled sweater+pearls/flowers, maybe belt on top of cardigan
For photographing: Cord jeans+any colored top+cardigan or riding jacket+scarf+trainers
If it gets cold: leggings under cords or with skirt, layer long-sleeve tops over racerbacks, or vice-versa
Other options: Black skirt+black Ann Fontaine blouse, or black skirt+colored tank+black Anne Fontaine blouse as a jacket instead of the cardigan.

If I were going to take one additional piece, it would have been black pants or dark wash jeans. But all this is enough. As it is, I'm unlikely to wear every single piece I'm bringing before I return. I find I start to get depressed if I bring only dark colors to Europe, and end up shopping for bright pieces at places like H&M that are redundant with things I have at home just to boost my spirits while I'm there. So we'll see if my more colorful strategy works this trip! If I throw one more thing in, it will be another big, long colorful scarf I'll wear to the airport. I'd prefer to pack the ballet flats and wear the trainers, but getting them off to pass through security is a bitch, so I just stuff them full of other stuff and pack them.

Great Granny P photo shoot today!

With a new dresser and wig wranger who I tried out. She worked out great, so it looks like the Granny Panty machine is now four! Edited photos up on the Granny P flickr site tomorrow.

I'm packed.

My little book into which I transcribe all the opening hours and metro information I need for my destinations is ready.

And as I plan, I wonder if I will return to all the places I last visited with X. And the answer is, of course, Yes. It was my city before I ever shared it with him. And I will return, even, to our hotel. And then the whole circle is forever closed for me, a kind of exorcism of the heart.

It's my city. I'll be damned if I give it up over a failed romance. And there are new places I'm going to explore by myself this time. And I'm not spending a single moment of my precious time in the infernal Louvre.

Paris, je reviens!

But there are still a million loose ends I need to tie up at school before I depart a week from today. There just isn't enough time. But at least I now have the proper iPod adapter to keep my music going in Paris and I won't have to ration it. I love having the soundtrack playing along with what I see.

Just as a lark, tonight

...I tried packing for Paris week after next in a large purse. And I can do it. Everything suitable for days of photographing and museums, to excursions to Hermès and the opera, and everything that could happen in between. I am kind of an expert on packing light after all the trips I took to Europe in 2008. And I don't have any eBay purchases to haul along now for one who wanted to save on postage on his end, which makes it really easy to travel light. As is my way.

But I will use a real carry-on bag. Because, God knows, I am likely to succumb to the irresistable impulse to buy one really, really impractical pair of shoes while I'm in Paris and I'll need to be able to haul them home. Really, in Paris as long as one has planned for foot comfort it's perfectly easy to bring a few pieces in black or dark colors and be done with it. But I made it a challenge on myself: grey, inky purple, lilac, dusty pink. A tone poem.

The Granny Panty burlesque project continues

Seriously, it's like a machine, between costume making, photo shoots, two dance classes a week and trying to do the strength training I'm going to need to perform live on the walker in a few months. Plus musical research about what to set the numbers on, etc., etc. But I'm loving every minute of it! You can read Granny's blog by following the link in the sidebar of this blog if you're interested.

The semester is a killer. Some days I hardly have time to sit at my desk and read and answer e-mail because of all the meetings.

And I'm off to Paris, on my long-delayed "summer" vacation, in a couple of weeks. Whee!

I've been a poor blogger lately, haven't I?

The semester has been off to a hectic start, fraught with student-related dramas, some tragic. And I've been using what little time and energy I have left over for my own projects -- specifically, on Granny P -- which is going very, very well. I really enjoy being in a regular dance class again.

Uncharacteristically depressed today.

Perhaps it's the non-stop rain that meant no long walk for Buster and me this morning. Perhaps it's because I've still been feeling punk all week and not sleeping well, waking myself up coughing. In any case, I am blue tonight.

I've been sewing for over twenty-four hours and have lots to show for it: costumes for next weekend's photo shoot on my new project, costumes to perform in, various bits and pieces. I'm working on the final piece tonight, a virginal white batiste apron, like the nuns would sew. I should feel good about all this productivity and a whole new performance wardrobe.

I should feel happy because I love burlesque dance class, and because I have my first pole dance class tomorrow to look forward to.

But the iTunes plays French music, and Brazilian music, and it all seems to speak to me of melancholy. When it rains, I always long to be in bed with someone I'm madly in love with, making sweet, sweet love. Last night the rain was driving, melodious, so romantic. And I lay in bed and thought, "I'm not in love with anyone. I'm alone."

It will pass. Vivre sans vivre.

And, anyway, I go to Paris in a month. Once there, I can always run off with the Gypsies.

September 2009 Vogue: Inspirations

September 2009 Vogue: Inspirations
Originally uploaded by diebuechse

Ever trying to save you time and money, here's my research on the September "big book" --

RED, black and white houndstooth and tweeds, wide belt waist emphasis, Forties look, purple (but not with brown like last season), purple and near fuscia with leopard print, booties, over the knee boots, crazy gladiator-type shoes, socks with heels (yay!), boots with suits.

Yep, I think that's about it on the trends that caught my eye.

Long time, no write.

You know how I am when I get obsessed with an art project. And my new granny burlesque project has taken over my life in the course of just three short weeks. Photo shoots, wig wrangling, wardrobe designing, burlesque dance classes, pole dancing class...

Every walker I pass I have to stop and look at, thinking, "Hmmm. Would this one be a better one for my act? Wonder what other colors it comes in? Is it more stable than mine?"

And I was a little sick last week, although I just tried to keep on working through it. I'm feeling nearly 100% again today, and will use what's left of my three-day weekend to clean up my living room-turned-photography studio. It looks like a stripper store blew up downstairs in my house these days!

They're back.

The students, that is.

Whee!

On to the next thing. Granny burlesque.

I am not joking. The walker is incredibly stable, and, as they sang in Gypsy, "You gotta have a gimmick!"

http://grannypthegreypanther.blogspot.com/

Poor, once-beautiful gardenia.

A little over a year ago he said, "I thought I detected a hint of fear in your voice, as if you'd realized our complicated logistics have the potential to do you much harm." And I answered him, "No, not fear! Only joy!"

Unhanging the show. Argh. I'm dehydrated.

It's no fun taking it down.
Why does it seem it takes longer to take a show down than install it?

But the video is up of my "vows" dance. It's a re-performance because there were too many people in the space when I originally performed it to video it. But that's what I was wearing. Except my hair was down.



Or here, if you prefer. I have more recent performances and archive videos up both places. The short ones are on youtube, the long ones on exposureroom.

View on ExposureRoom

Laughing: Ali and I evidently made the society page of the Sunday newspaper.

(A week later: here's another one taken that night by Jimmie)


http://www.austin360.com/calendar/mediahub/media/slideshow/index.jsp?tId=175084

If you consider Gadjo Disko at a bar called the Cockpit as something A-list in the first place. We're photo 15, me in the dirndl and Heidi hair. Photo 34 is one of Cindy's creations and models, 41 is Jimmie in one of Cindy's creations, 47 is one of Cindy's creations and models.

Fun times. Next time I go there I'm wearing a goth dirndl and a garlic-and-crucifix-necklace, and dirt on my face.

Anti(dote)Wedding Exhibition and Performance images up on flickr

Just back home from Gadjo Disko

...and a fashion show including four outfits my daughter-in-law made that were fantastic. However, it was so hot in the gay bar it all took place in that Ali and I had to leave after Cindy's pieces. I thought I was going to puke. So no Balkan dancing for me tonight, although I was rocking the dirndl and Heidi hair and have been dying to gypsy dance for days.

I am pretty exhausted now, after my own show last night. But tomorrow's Sunday, and I'm gonna chill.

But, folks: I see 1,000 hits on this blog as of this evening. I have no idea who most of you are, but thanks for reading!

The Anti(Dote)Wedding

...was fantastic!

I'll put up a portfolio on flickr now that it's over and I can fully document the show. I had a blast afterward with everyone who came and the work was very well received. I flubbed my own dance a little because I was incredibly nervous, but I think the performance was really wonderful -- and Jimmie and Suze and Jack and Frankie and the little girls were all fantastic.

I do have the best friends in the whole world, since they actually helped clean up before departing in the wee hours. I'm a little worse for the pro secco this morning, but I'll drink a lot of water and should be feeling chipper in just a bit. My house is full of flowers and it smells wonderful. And I have an in-home massage at 3. Yay!

Wow. It's over. I really feel as if I've accomplished something meaningful with this show. And I know without a doubt the work in this show is the very best work of my entire life. And, hopefully, all of it, making the work, mounting the show, creating the performances, conveys the meaning to those who witnessed it that it is critical to use the events of one's own life, the really "stripped bare" stuff, as art supplies. No matter how painful.

Anti(dote)Wedding

Antidote Wedding Vows, August 14, 2009

It all seems like a movie to me, this crazy romance of mine that was to have culminated in a wedding this evening. Its seeds must have been planted five years ago in Vienna; we even went to Hotel Sacher, like in The Third Man. Then, as in David Lean’s Summertime, our love affair began in earnest in Italy, and, as in An American in Paris, it continued during a few romantic days there. During the next six months our romance often felt alternately like a Hitchcock movie and a Fellini film. For some reason, tonight the final scene of The Philadelphia Story keeps playing in my head. I feel like Katharine Hepburn’s character, Tracy Lord, apologizing to her family and friends who’d gathered for a wedding that wasn’t going to take place.

Instead of a wedding, tonight I just want to tell all of you how sincerely grateful I am. I want to thank you, my co-workers, family and dearest friends, for your support during those seven months I was madly in love. Thank you for taking care of things at school. Thank you for looking after Buster for me when I was away. Thanks for the rides to and from the airport, laden with luggage full of e-bay purchases and gifts. Thank you for keeping the doubts -- which you surely must have had -- to yourself as I embarked upon what must have seemed like a mad adventure destined to end in heartbreak. As you all recall, I was deliriously happy during the seven months I was in love, and I want to thank you for being happy for me when it seemed I had finally found the soul-mate for whom I have long searched. Thank you, too, for your support in January when the love affair ended miserably in the course of just one day. And thank you for reading the fictionalized account of the romance in my book and for viewing the nearly one hundred drawings that also tell the story of this past year. Perhaps now you have more insight into what was going on in my heart and mind those months of my grand amour fou.

I also want to thank he who was once my love, he who would have become my third and final husband tonight. Louis, I sincerely thank you for your affection and for the tenderness and intimacy we once shared. I am deeply grateful not only for your love, but also for your belief in me as an artist and a writer, which propelled me into one of the most intense periods of creative activity I’ve ever experienced in my life. It’s not often that I produce a hundred drawings, much less a 350-page novel, in the course of one short year. Thank you so much for the energy and inspiration you sparked in me. I hope, in this, at least, that you were not wrong – that my work is important. Thank you for believing that I’ve earned my rightful place alongside Artemisia Gentileschi, Elisabeth Vignée-Lebrun, Camille Claudel, the Louises Bourgeois and Nevelson, Pina Bausch, Frida Kahlo, Simone de Beauvoir, the Brontës, Anne Frank and Anaïs Nin.

I’m grateful to you for proving to me that my heart is still alive, still capable of loving and, evidently, still hopeful. I would not have believed it possible at my age, and with my past romantic failures, that I could once again love so deeply and with such passion as I loved you. I would be lying to you now if I did not admit I miss your intellectual companionship, the quirky, esoteric interests we alone shared, your hands and your kisses. I miss playing Anaïs Nin and Henry Miller with you. Even though we have no future together, tonight I promise to treasure the beautiful, rich memories of our time together. I realize we are like the movies: at the end, I still know so little about you that you remain a mystery, a shadowy character like one written by Patricia Highsmith for Hitchcock – like the talented Mr. Ripley. And I, probably, will remain in your mind your Madelyn from Vertigo: an ideal, an anima projection. When I became uncomfortably “real,” our time together had to come to its inevitable ending and I had to disappear. I am a photograph, removed from your wallet and thrown away. Still, I have no regrets. Everything has turned out exactly the way Fate meant it to for both of us, my old love. Louis, I wish you well. I’ll quote Rick in Casablanca: “We’ll always have Paris.” And to Paris I will return alone to reclaim my city, as an antidote honeymoon.

I had originally planned to perform this piece as part of my wedding vows to Louis. So, in the words of Tracy Lord, “as originally and beautifully planned” I will now do just that to “Face the Music,” sung by Fred Astaire, from his movie Follow the Fleet. As I recall, Astaire sang it to a suicidal Ginger Rogers on the deck of a ship as she contemplated jumping overboard.