COMPETENT: Adjective; Having the necessary ability, knowledge, or skill to do something successfully.
ECLECTIC: Noun; A person who derives ideas, style, or taste from a broad and diverse range of sources.
HYPHENATE: –noun 1. A person with multiple duties or abilities 2. A person working or excelling in more than one craft or occupation 3. A person who has or performs more than one job or function
What is a true eclectic to do when her passions lead her in different directions?
This is a blog for the unfocused, the round pegs in the square holes, the short-attention span types, and all those who just can't bring themselves to join the ranks and adhere to a single category of activities or interests...whether sketches, drawings and comics, fixing an old farmhouse in Oregon, or whatever else strikes my fancy.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
On the Bus: Pirates (01-28-09)
Two homeless guys (with great pirate faces) at the front of the bus, -one of them holding a cup of coffee- (this is Portland after all...), engaged in a lively conversation.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Crystal Ballroom (01-25-09)

As it was, the violin player in the group featured when walked in the 3rd floor ballroom was a girl J. knows from Dragon Boats.
PDX Collective (01-25-09)

Really cool and great stuff, but $200 for boots on sale, that's just, uh, not my price range, -budget-wise, I'm more like a Target Clearance shopper,- not cool, but I still like looking at cute stuff even if I can't buy it.
I did a quick sketch of the shoppers.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Condiment Bottles at Sayler's (01-24-09)

I had just enough time to draw these bottles of condiment before the waitress brought my plate, and the steak was so good,I didn't want to let it get cold by drawing anything else.
Rose Festival Meeting (01-24-09)

I think it's great to see J. continue what seems to be a family tradition at this point, since both sisters M. and V. had also applied when they were high school Seniors.
This is a perfect opportunity for a young woman to learn to be confident, to talk in public, and to have a chance at representing the city.
I was late to the meeting due to a prior engagement and barely had time to start this sketch before the meeting was over.
Update: See the article in the Portland Mercury about how it unfolded...
Friday, January 23, 2009
Dinner at Firehouse (01-23-09)

We enjoyed a delicious meal and great service, from the pizza to the chicken to the desserts.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
I got my diploma! (ca. 01-09)
Amazing News! I finally got my degree from Portland State University: a Master's in General Arts and Letters!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Moso's Birthday (01-21-09)

It was an epic meal; I watched her accidentally send a shrimp fly across the table.
In this sketch, M. is concentrating on what food on her plate she is going to attack next.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
On the Bus (01-20-09)

I was trying to look casual, glancing at him every once in a while, but must have been totally obvious, since the woman sitting next to him thought I was drawing her! She got up before getting off the bus and asked to see the sketch. And then she was telling me how wonderful it is to be able to draw, etc., and the usual, "Oh, I wish I could draw, but I can't, just stick figures, etc."
A few minutes after she was gone, my young guy pulled out a sketchbook and started to sketch people on the bus! (So I was right about the artist part...) I showed him the sketch before I got off the bus.
Now, picture a bus where everyone could be busy drawing everyone...
Sunday, January 18, 2009
My present sketchbook (01-18-09)

This is a photo of the sketchbook I am using right now.
My dad got several of these wonderful books in Hungary. I love the compact format, the many pages, the attention to details, the leather binding, the old-fashioned patterns...
Unfortunately, the manufacturer has discontinued this particular size of books. I still have a few blank ones stashed away, and when they'll be completed, I will have to reluctantly move on to something else altogether.
"Fête des Rois" at the Alliance Française (01-18-09)

After the demonstration, we tasted some galettes from Pix Pâtisserie.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Movie: "Die Hard" (1988) (01-17-09)

It was fun watching this old, yet still pretty cool movie, with Alan Rickman as Head Bad Guy and various terrorists with Rock Star 70s hairstyles.
I often draw while watching a movie, even in a dark theater...
Thursday, January 15, 2009
On the Bus (01-14, 01-15-09)

To draw people in a closed environment like a bus, I glance at people once in a while and try to remember details of their faces, adding them in afterward if necessary.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
At Nicholas (01-07-09)

Thursday, January 1, 2009
Celebrating the New Year...at Pix Pâtisserie (01-01-08)


We found a little spot in a corner by the bar and sipped a Ginger Ale while I drew the crowd and enjoyed the ear-splitting Techno.
As for the after-midnight Chocolate Buffet, I loved it! It was the most decadently self-indulgent thing I had ever done! It was like "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," only, it was more like "Pascale at Pix Pâtisserie."
Right after midnight, all those who had been given a small Gold ticket lined up and went single-file into the kitchen, where a long table was covered with chocolate pastries, chocolate creams, chocolate mousse, chocolates...
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
News about the degree (12-22-08)
I can't believe I did it! I finally finished my last two classes at Portland State University.
Now, it is only a matter of time before I get my diploma.
Now, it is only a matter of time before I get my diploma.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Maxine's BD: The World Has Gone to H... (ca. 12-08?)
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Gary Losing It (ca. 12-08)
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Apologies... Not doing well.

I haven't been able to think straight because of an ongoing chronic inflammation of the heels (imagine that when you're walking, every step or movement feels like you have a sprained or a broken ankle, and you see little flashes of light because it hurts terribly, all the time).
Anyway, I don't feel up to post anything right now.
Apologies, this blog has been quiet lately... (12-11-08)
...due to the author's health problems.
I hope to snap out of it soon and to post something.
I hope to snap out of it soon and to post something.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Portland Houses: Pittock Mansion (12-06-08)

The Pittock Mansion is situated on top of a forested hill that must have been difficult to reach in the 1920s. Whenever I visit it, my thoughts go to the staff whose function was to be at the beck and call of the owners. So, more than the grand Music Room, or the Library, the spaces that interest me are those one which the rest of the house depended to be functional. For a long time, the kitchen was closed, but now restored, it is part of the tours. Although it is a large room with a great view of downtown, equipped with a superb top-of-the (1920s) line of stove, adjacent to a walk-in cooling room, there is hardly a counter to work on or a surface to lay things on.
Portland Houses: The Lion and the Rose (12-06-08)
This house is listed on the Historic Register, and so a sign was posted announcing that the house would be open for tours the next day. I wanted J. and C. them to see this beautiful house, so we went back and had a great time admiring it.
Portland Houses: The Georgian House (12-06-08)

Portland Houses: White House (12-06-08)

Portland Houses: Clinker Brick House (12-06-08)

We used to own a (great) house in Medford with two fireplaces made of clinker bricks. I was told that these bricks which look almost black and whose shapes are often distorted were brought up to Oregon after the Great Fire of San Francisco in 1906 and used on new construction of the time.
Portland Houses: Cottage House (12-06-08)

The Cottage House is my favorite. It's essentially a Tudor style house whose woodwork has been refinished in natural stain (as opposed to the usual dark brown). I particularly liked the bent shingles roof, don in an effort to keep the general shape, -if not the look, of a straw roof.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Back from Europe! (12-01-08)
Well...Paris was Paris.
The women were beautiful and stylish, the weather was nice, the food was great...
The women were beautiful and stylish, the weather was nice, the food was great...
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Belgium: My Aunt and Uncle (11-25-08)

While in Belgium, I went to visit my aunt (Tante Marcelle) and my uncle (Onc' Jacques).
My aunt is 83; she always has some interesting story to tell, while my uncle (85) tends to joke, with the same sort of dry humor my cousins inherited.
Tante Marcelle:
"Ah, that reminds me what happened with the neighbors, but that was 16 years ago, no, wait, it was 12 years ago, because I remember the wall hadn't been rebuilt yet, well, what was I saying? Oh, that's right, the neighbors, nice people; they always say "Hello" so nicely. But they have the nerve to park the truck right across the gate and there's no room left for anyone. Did I tell you the man is a truck driver? No? Anyway, they always say hello very nicely, but then, the kids do the darnedest things. They keep kicking their soccer ball over the gate, and it pisses me off that they keep doing it, over and over. When I go down the alley, if I have to go get groceries, and I find the ball, I throw it back over the gate, but I had to go tell the mother to tell the kids to stop ringing the doorbell at the gate. It's happened several times, I had to go all the way down the alley, then the stairs. -Ah, it was exactly 12 and half years ago, because we redid the stairs after the wall!- So you see, it just doesn't seem right for an old lady like me to have to go down all the way down the alley then the stairs, and just for a soccer ball, you see. It's bad enough that I have to go down those stairs twice a week to go get groceries. Ah, yes, that's right; I was telling you about the neighbor. What did I want to tell again? I can't remember anymore... I have the worst memory. No, really, I assure you. I can't remember anything. It's terrible how low we sink. So, as I was saying, those people are always parking their darn truck in the street and there is no room to do anything, see, since it's a cul-de-sac, no one can turn their car around because of his %^!! truck. But they're nice people...for the most part."
Onc' Jacques:
"You can almost tell whose car it was by the color of the paint scrapes on the side of the truck!"
Friday, November 21, 2008
Paris: Les Deux Moulins (11-21-08)

On my last day in Paris, I decided to walk from the hotel all the way to Montmartre despite the hotel's concierge trying to persuade me to take the Metro instead. I wanted to see the average streets of the city, the day-to-day banal and morose façades, and to not restrict myself to the picturesque only.
It was a long walk. My foot had started hurting again, and Montmartre was far away, uphill. But on the way, I did several things I couldn't have, had I taken the Metro.
I went to the Fragonard Museum of Perfume (essentially a perfume store) and sampled perfumes willy-nilly, and it was deliciously and fragrantly fun. I walked by the Opéra. I went in the Galleries Lafayette (department store), up to the rooftop terrace and enjoyed a beautiful fall view of the city. I had a late lunch in the cafeteria, and marveled at how everything looked delicious, from the salad bar to the steaks grilled to order (compare that to greasy burgers in the U.S.). I went up narrow streets full of people going about their lives. I went into the Sacré-Coeur (the big white church in Montmartre), and enjoyed the opportunity to simply be there. The view from the steps outside the church was memorable; the sky was streaked in pinks and mauves.
It was getting dark fast; it was my last evening in Paris.
As nighttime came, it got really cold. I was limping and every step on the cobblestones was painful. I found the coffee shop, hesitated, then went inside and had a wonderful little cup of hot chocolate. It was magical to sit in a place I had seen in a lovely movie.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Paris: Buddha-bar (11-19-08)

Late one evening, I went to the famous, super trendy Buddha-Bar.
I went inside, past the bouncers, and down a wide staircase to a dimly-lit landing and was directed to the balcony-level bar. I found a table in a corner of the balcony and took my time working in a my sketchbook, sipping my 9 Euros 0,5 liter bottle of water over the course of two hours, taking in the sounds and the sights.
The place was dark, music was blasting from loudspeakers, -I love club music-, people wore black (an art statement), graying older men wearing sport jackets over turtleneck sweaters were hunting for girls to pick up, pretty girls were laughing and busy talking over the noise. Looking down from the balcony to the cavernous space housing the basement-level restaurant, one could faintly see tables full of people and the great Buddha statue the restaurant is famous for.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Paris: Moroccan Restaurant (11-18-08)

I ate well in Paris.
Since I was there for work, I even had the opportunity to splurge and have a fine meal in an elegant Art Deco-era bistro warmly recommended to me by the hotel concierge as "a great value for the very reasonable price" (30 Euros Prix Fixe Menu for dinner: a generous portion of Foie Gras as an appetizer, Steak Tartare with Fries as a main course, and Crème Brûlée as dessert)...
But the best place I ate at was at this little Moroccan restaurant in an alley bordered by narrow streets with ethnic and regional cuisine restaurants. The warm welcome, the good food, the tea (oh, the mint tea...), and the price which was much more affordable made this place one I will gladly re-visit if I get a chance.
I had a delicious Couscous with chicken. The best part of the meal was the mint tea, sweet and hot. I sat in a daze of happiness, sipping my tea and weakly trying to refuse the many refills I was offered.
Paris: I met a Fairy Godmother (11-18-08)

Sitting on a bench in the Akira Kurosawa exhibit in the Petit Palais (art museum), I was lost in my thoughts. I hadn't been feeling well and was debating what to do once I left the museum.
I looked up when I heard a woman standing nearby sigh out loud, as if to catch my attention. She then began to fan herself with a program, exclaiming that she was exhausted and sat down on my bench. She started talking to me, as if we had been visiting the museum together all along. I immediately felt like I knew this woman.
She was small vivacious, talkative, funny. We talked about the Kurosawa exhibit, his movies, Art, museums, and things to do in Paris, Life, what it is all about. She told me that she lives in the countryside and comes up to Paris once a year to visit museums and go to the theater. She asked me about myself, how I was. She told me I was very brave and courageous.
As we were talking, I kept asking myself how it was possible that I felt like I knew her... She was in her mid-sixties, perhaps older; her hair was dark brown and cut in an impish pageboy style. Would she have gotten along with my mom, had she ever met her? Was it my mom she was reminding me of? True, my mom had the same self-assured manner and friendly way with people… I asked her name, “Oh, it’s a stupid name, Elizabeth.” I then asked her, should we perhaps exchange addresses? She brushed my question off. "Whatever for? There is no need for that!" And she was right.
We went together to visit some of the rooms in the museum, showed each other artwork we had admired on our own. She shared some Japanese art she had liked and I showed her a floor-to-ceiling painting of “The Good Samaritan” that looked so real, I had at first thought it was a color photograph. Still talking, we walked out of the museum together and went to the nearest Metro station. She decided to accompany me to the St Michel stop.
We got off the train. I wanted to thank her in for her kindness. I offered to draw a portrait of her and give it to her, but she laughed and refused; she said she looked terrible in portraits. She then hugged me, said "Au revoir, ma grande," kissed me on the cheek, waved goodbye as she walked away, down a flight of stairs to her train, and disappeared among the crowd. She was gone.
I suddenly felt very lonely.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Paris: Chez Flottes (11-16-08)

I had a delicious onion soup and a perfect little crème brûlée for dessert.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Off to Europe! (11-14-08)
I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow, then off to Belgium next Saturday and will be back on November 26 (Julia's birthday).
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Wordstock: Lynda Barry (11-09-08)


Alas...Wordstock is over.
I managed to escape from my obligations today and go to the Convention Center this afternoon. I had a great time walking down row after row of booths and tables hosted by small presses and other vendors who deal with the printed word.
My main reason to go was to see Lynda Barry, and she was worth the trip. She was shorter than I expected, wore cat's eye glasses and a big red and white polka dot headband wrapped around her head and tied into a knot on top. She laughed a lot, sang funny songs, and was natural in an I-don't-take-myself-seriously way that was both humbling and very real at the same time. (I'm afraid I don't make much sense here. What I'm trying to say is that her unguarded manner endeared her to the audience.)
I had purchased her new book (full of drawings!) and had been given a big ad poster for the book. As I approached the signing table, with my sketchbook, the poster and the new book in hand, wouldn't you know it? The Powell's guy-in-charge made some grumbling sounds to the effect that people should one get only one thing signed...event though he hadn’t said a word for the people before me.
Once at the table, if I was going to get only one signature, I wanted it in my sketchbook. She drew a monkey on the page across from the drawing I had done of her, and then offered to sign the new book and poster also. She was really cool and friendly. I showed her some of the Maxine comics from my "Maxine on the run" blog and gave her a card with the address for the website.
Lynda Barry: A+++
Saturday, November 8, 2008
PSU Class: Michael J. (11-08-08)
A quick sketch of Michael J. of Cascade Geographic Society who organized the PSU class visit to the McLoughlin House in Oregon City.
PSU Class: Oregon History Interpretive Center (11-08-08)


A trip to the Mc Loughlin House in Oregon City, to visit "The Birthplace of Oregon" as part of a PSU class.
There hardly was anything in Oregon before the 1860s, in contrast with Europe.
By then my great-great-grand-father had already bought the stone house in Polleur (Belgium) and had set up a blacksmith shop. Years later, when my grand-parents were still alive, various old-fashioned tools still hung on the walls in the shop area.
It never ceases to amaze me to get inside old wooden pioneer houses in Oregon, so tiny and reminiscent of "The Little House on the Prairie." To think that this area is still so new... The sad thing, is how quickly things get demolished in this country, just because it is "old" (that is, over 40 years old). (Or worse yet, to see a charming "restored" farmhouse for sale, and to walk in what obligatorily ought to be a period-style kitchen, and to see stainless steel and mottled granite counter tops...)
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