Monday, December 29, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Merry Xmas All of You Sanders Out There...
Peace, Love, Dove you Croutons!!!
xoRuby, Lola and lil' Dusty...
Lois Rainwater Found Her Color Wheel Very Last Minute on This...Xmas Eve...Shes got just a few Balls...She Loves The Yiddish Cowgirl Suite and intends
Lois found this dress from the on line Frippery Store that Chandor and Zollie represent...
She's ready for Gregg Rapp's Xmas Eve Cocktail Party and then Spencers for Dinner. Yum.
A Very Merry Xmas to All Sanders Everywhere...Ruby Loves You.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Here Sander Connie Turner slurps down another Candy Cane...This Tree will be bare by Xmas Morning...
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I am flabbergasted by this choice...
I want to give our Man Obama a Chance to find Common Ground...
I want to Look at a Larger Picture
I want to believe his interest is in building bridges...
It is not a "policy difference" it is dehumanizing to the GLBT community...
I want to continue my thought of HOPE not DOPE or NOPE...
Gertrude Stein said "Everybody gets so much information all day long that they lose their common sense"...if she only knew what today would bring...
Sander Jamie Kabler Sent In This Marvelous Photo He Took This Morning of The Palm Springs Swim Center...Dig all of the Snow that Fell Just Yesterday..
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The Jimersons and their flocked Tree in The Howdy Doody Goes to Bali Suite...I Think They Got Into The Eggnog a Little Early...
(The Fabulous Coral Sands Inn)that she has made enough to last the entire season...It looks like they are using some of the early reserves pretty hardily. Nothing like that "under the tree" feeling..." I keep telling them..."He's in Bali!"
Madge bought this dress late yesterday afternoon at Revival's Annual sale...$7.95...Scored it just in Time to Throw it on and head to Monte Vista for some Sugar Cookies and Vodka...that helped "complete" her "outfit"...Obviously Billy had his "outfit" designed for the party well in advance of the date...The McClintocks are going on a hike today in Joshua Tree...They are just leaving now...
Friday, December 12, 2008
Biff and Irene Showlander are just in from Bakersfield and Have redone The Poodle Room for Their Xmas Holiday at The Sands...
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Tom Perry is Doing Amazingly Well...Thank you for All Your calls Love and Concern...There is Still a Long Way to Go With His Therapy...
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
In the Palm Springs area, Ginny's art can be seen at Imago's Studio Gallery 11/29/08 @ 5 -8p.m.
by Regina Hackett is the Art Critic for The Seattle P.I.
When 39-year-old artist Ginny Ruffner was in a coma from a car crash in North Carolina that should have killed her, doctors tried to prepare her friends and family for the worst. She might not wake up at all. Should she wake, she wasn't going to be able to walk, talk or take care of herself.
As far as making art was concerned, it was over. Nobody survives a head injury as massive as hers without brain damage, and the damage could easily be permanent.
In a similar situation, most people lose hope. The people surrounding Ruffner, however, weren't most people. Her mother and father, Carolyn and Al Martin, of Fort Mill, S.C., were by Ginny's bedside at the hospital in Charlotte, N.C. every day. "My parents were wonderful," says Ginny, "and so were my brother Al and my sisters Kay and Melinda." Her wide circle of friends, particularly those from the Pacific Northwest, visited often. Still, the doctors had little confidence that she would be able to create art again.
Five months after the uninsured teenage driver lost control of her car and plowed head-on into her lane, Ruffner opened her eyes She was back. As an artist of international standing in the contemporary glass movement, she had thousands of people around the world cheering her on. After the relief, however, doubt set in. How much of the original person could be left after such an accident? Where is spirit stored, and can a head injury kill creativity?
The answer wasn't long in coming. Although she couldn't speak, see clearly or move the left side of her body, she gestured to an alphabet board. By pointing at the letters she delivered a message to the doctor who had ordered her restrained at night to keep her from rolling out of bed. "Untie me," she spelled out, "or I'm calling the AMA." When informed that her studio had been dismantled in Seattle, she used the spelling board again, "I need my studio." Her brother, Greenville, S.C. lawyer, Al Martin Jr. and his wife Laura, made the long trip to Seattle and found her former studio was still for rent. They moved everything back in there for her.
Inside her damaged body, her intelligence, humor, courage and imagination were intact. The artist was still there too. She'd need it all to recover. Today, at 53, she can walk, talk and leave women half her age trailing behind her in workouts at the gym. Her lovely Southern voice remains a brittle shadow of itself, but it's getting stronger each year. "Thank God I wasn't an opera singer," she says.
In her view, she was lifted off the ground by a tornado of a disaster, but she pulled herself out of it, found her feet as a person and artist, and continues to be delighted by the world. "I'm a lemonade from lemons kind of person," she likes to say. She also likes to say that her glass is never less than half full.
Remember that tornado? She not only accepted it, she made it bloom. On June 25, "Creativity: The Flowering Tornado, Art by Ginny Ruffner" opens at Tacoma's Museum of Glass. The exhibit that debuted in 2003 at the Montgomery Museum of Fine Arts features a pop-up book full of illustrated, self-help adages. Instead of a one-off eccentricity, the book represents the heart of Ruffner's aesthetic.
Clichés aren't corny to her and never were. She began her career, after all, as a lampwork artist. Lampwork is the back door to the glass revolution. Hobbyists are usually the ones who heat rods of glass with a small torch, making paperweights, necklaces and those cute little glass baubles of horses, angels, pets, hearts and flowers, the kind of thing found standing on doilies in homey display cases.
Ruffner was trained at the University of Georgia as a painter, graduating with an M.F.A. in 1975. Glass was just gaining ground as a contemporary movement, and it drew her almost immediately. Glass blowers were the big deal, and they were nearly all men.
Following her instincts, she sidestepped the men and focused on the humble form of lampwork. When she began, she was the only serious artist concentrating on it. Thanks to her, lampwork is now common and unchallenged in art circles.
Her gift is the ability to consider a corny thing through the radiant prism of her imagination. In her hands, what is stale becomes animate and full of complication. She doesn't bring high art and low kitsch together. She simply doesn't think in those terms. For her, Picasso and somebody's cookie-baking great grandmother can be inspirations on the same level.
In her sculptures, pop-psychology insights share illustrated pride of place with Juan Mirò's black and red patterning, Paul Klee's wandering lines, Picasso's heads and all manner of circus toys. Lowbrow has many highbrow adherents these days, but Ruffner's samplings are entirely devoid of irony. In her aesthetic, any x can equal any y, and the jet stream of creativity courses through both the rare and the commonplace.
At dinner at Dale Chihuly's in the late 1980s, he pointed out that she was the first to claim Seattle had become the "Manhattan of glass art." People pounced on the phrase and used it without attribution. "That's fine," she replied. "They like it, they can have it. You don't need the water when you've got the well."
That confidence still marks everything she does.
Ruffner's sculptures in glass are the visual equivalent of break dancing. They have a clattery rhythm, a blooming garden sense of color and a fantastic kind of Mobius-strip fluidity. Interconnected webs of multicolored tubes curl and cave in on themselves, drunk on their own high spirits and sprouting appendages: apples, peaches pumpkin pies; hands, eyes, hearts, flower petals and leaves; wine bottles, chunks of cheese and flying fish.
After her accident, she began to produce stage sets for her sculptures, and then the sculptures became stage sets. Today, glass is just one tool in her box. Recent sculptures are sometimes bronze. They have a sense of animal life about them, like overgrown dogs with glass tongues lolling out. She also uses steel, as in, steel jaws ready to snap. There are rose petals that really are rose petals, and outer space flowers that really are glass.
Art historian Vicki Halper noted that once Ruffner's visual vocabulary becomes familiar, "we can almost construct sentences out of her sculptures." Pencils, said Halper, "stand for art, wings for transcendence, hearts for feeling, tornadoes for creativity, fruit for bounty, webs for interconnectedness, and the Old Masters for inspiration."
Ruffner's work is down home and sophisticated. Even after decades of postmodern high / low conjunctions, her lack of snobbery makes her rare. It can still raises hackles, especially in those of critics who remain appalled by her lack of irony. About her "Mind Garden" installation at the Seattle Art Museum in 2000, one critic wrote that it was "flat-footed and literal."
Never flat-footed. No one is so light in her use of allusions. What Tom Robbins once wrote about angels is true of Ruffner, that they can fly because they take themselves lightly. Her art invites us to do the same. We can leave out prejudices against the literal at the door, because she brings blooming physicality to the literal and gives it abundant new life.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Meet This Lucky Turkey Chick named Trevor who thinks he;s a duck. The Three day old bird has been fitted with webbed slippers to try to straighten out his deformed toes.
He has been helped by vets who found the conventional treatment of putting the curled up toes in splints did not work.
He has been spared the chop for this particular misery.
The Coral Sands wishes Sanders everywhere a very Happy Thanksgiving...Ruby will be having Turkey Day at Daveys Hideaway with 14 others around 2p.m. Wonderful day unfolding. Guests are all in the pool after a beautiful rainstorm. We love the smell of fresh rain at The Sands.