The Mental Notes of Currie and The Plant Keeper

Like a serial novella, served in continuous installments, this page is my online publishing house for unfolding stories. And it's 100% FREE!  PFXO  Read along with us! 

Patti Friday, Photojourno, reporting from inside 'The Art Dept.' at the international 'Embassy of Ideas'. Reading. Listening. Learning. Improving. Hanging out with successful people. Photographer. Pirate. Bubby. CANADA @pattifriday

The Mental Notes of Currie and The Plant Keeper

Dear Plant Keeper,

The sky was fiery peach and strawberry this morning. A touch of salmon flesh mixed with juicy cantaloupe. Burning smoky clouds blushed on the eastern morning horizon. Rising, warning, welcoming. The sailors whispered of pending wavy doom. I'm sure I heard them. Oh, I'd give anything sweet, sweet Sister to be on a ship; floating down a calm river. Lounging on the upper deck watching an avocado French landscape slip by.  

So sorry for being late with this return post. I don't want to use the word 'busy'. It sounds so selfish, don't you agree?  But, I have been heart-occupied with my new blank canvases. I see the work but can't pull it up and out of my inner atelier.  The studio will certainly be brightened with those Chinese lanterns of yours!  I can't wait to receive them. Box them up carefully. 

Don't faint. I know you will want to when you hear this, but I've packaged (twine, brown paper and pretty washi tape - green polka-dot, your favorite colour) a dozen blueberry scones for you. They are on their way to your golden rod road. Oh yes. You may bow before me now. Yes, indeed. I made them special order for you. Just the way we used to bake them on coolish rainy autumn Sundays. They will melt in your mouth.

Kiss me now because I must run.

Love Currie

Read the whole story HERE.

Patti Friday, Photojourno, reporting from inside 'The Art Dept.' at the international 'Embassy of Ideas'.

Digging The Graphic Novelist

When I write I see little movies in my head.  I visualize film sets and dialogue and facial gestures.  I can picture how the action is moving or not moving.  I feel the warmth of September sun beaming through the golden transparency of petals and hear the stillness of a sunflower field; the tall green swaying in the gentle breeze. I see a hand harvesting an Autumn bouquet. I hear the snip of shears cutting the plant's strong stem and the slush of fresh spring water - icy in the galvanized pail.  I transport myself to that happy yellow place. I call my graphic novels 'Photofiction'.  Am I making sense? Do you experience this too when you write?

I have been drawn to graphic novels lately and I justify this lust because of the 'way I write'. In this genre I can be the head of all departments. Cinematography, Art Direction, Producer, Actor, Screen Writer, Story Board Artist, Still Photographer, Director - Illustrator, Author, Publisher and well, food truck girl!

I have been experimenting and enjoying the creative process on my newest photofiction book 'The Mental Notes of Currie and The Plant Keeper'. I think I am falling in love with their script and world. Have you read it yet? 

Here are some other Authors who are of immense inspiration to me. 

Leanne Shapton is a Canadian artist and graphic novelist, now living in New York. Her second work, Important Artifacts and Personal Property From the Collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, Including Books, Street Fashion and Jewelry, has been optioned for a film slated to star Brad Pitt and Natalie Portman. The novel, which takes the form of an auction catalog, uses photographs and accompanying captions to chronicle the romance and subsequent breakup of a couple via the relationship's significant possessions or "artifacts".

Maira Kalman, born in 1949, is an American illustrator, author, artist, and designer. Born in Tel Aviv, Kalman came to New York Citywith her family at age 4.

Carla Coulson

Pia Jane Bijkerk

Patti Friday, Photojourno, reporting from inside 'The Art Dept.' at the international 'Embassy of Ideas'.

The Mental Notes of Currie and The Plant Keeper

Damn You Currie!!!!

Where are you?  I might lose a lung riding my Bobbin down the lane to the post box.  I watch for the plume of dust.  I listen for the man's screeching tires and echo of the crows flapping away in a panic. Then I know the mail has arrived.  It's been seventeen days since I got a letter from you. I only have eight cigarettes left.  I keep them in the freezer.  You know I hope to get something from you at least every pack. Remember?

In honour of harvesting and processing my Chinese lanterns yesterday I made home-made egg rolls to eat with my sugar-boiled corn..  Thank God I was able to find a greasy little packet of plum sauce way, way in the back of the junk drawer!  Do you like where I put your butterfly painting?  This plant is so aggressive. It is taking over the entire border down by the pond.  I'm OK with it. Plants needs to be free. I am packing up a box of about 50 stems to ship to your studio. They will look spooky cool in one of your old coffee cans.  Just dump those crusty used paintbrushes out of one.  I need the exact address. Hurry up now!

Did I tell you I bought a pink ukulele?  

Love Your Plant Keeper Forever.

(Read the whole story here)

Like a serial novella, served in continuous installments, this page is my publishing house for 'Photofiction'. A story unfolds with my photographs, illustrations and mixed-media pieces. A graphic novel of sorts!
Patti Friday, Photojourno, reporting from inside 'The Art Dept.' at the international 'Embassy of Ideas'.

Peace Love Create Art 

Patti xo 

Thank You

 Subscribe to my Facebook

Like my Facebook Photo Page

 Join the conversation on Twitter

 Pin Me on Pinterest

The Mental Notes of Currie and The Plant Keeper

 

Dear Currie,

That Dixie Cup holder; avocado green plastic, is still screwed into the wall beside the tall pantry cupboard.  The one closet to the sink, which for the record, I finally fixed. No more dripping in the night. I thought I'd go (further) mad with the drip, drip, drip, drip.  

I've resigned to the fact that I won't be making apple pies this Fall. I'll settle for corn relish and Lady Rose pickles. 

The thing about Jesus and Mary. Are they smoking weed or a Camel?  Potheads claim the plant was here and used as stated in the good book of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. But that's not your point I am pondering. I mean you are correct. Who is in charge of this place, this planet, this universe. Seems the humans can't decide and trouble-she's-a-brewing all over the place. Sad and angry people. Lonely souls, lost and forgotten and brutalized and beaten down. 

To magnify all this spiritual confusion we've got souvenir icons and crosses and symbols and tchotchkes made in China, trimmed in faux gold, sitting on car dashboards and hanging from rear-view mirrors. They sit on bedside tables and around skinny necks and grace the mantles of hopeful homes. Do you really think a key chain can save you?  That's the miracle Currie. That we are all still walking and able to function even though we settle to believe in something that can't be proven. Whipped like unruly work horses in the field. I believe you are on to something. Keep going.

I'm having a bad day. I am sad and still hopeless in everything. The potatoes should be good. I planted them a bit late, but the quality of eyes. Amazing! 

Can't shake the memory of him hating me so.  My. Even the dirt under my nails is cleaner than his filthy attacks on my emotions. He was relentless. Vicious. The meanest person I ever met. I wish I could forget his words. 

Tonight's dreams better be in technicolour cause I need some happy to fill me up. Which God is in charge anyway? You see. The world has a problem. None of us can decide.

Love The Plant Keeper

(Read the whole story here)

Patti Friday, Photojourno, reporting from inside 'The Art Dept.' at the international 'Embassy of Ideas'.

Currie and The Plant Keeper

Dearest Plant Keeper,

Before I answer you about the fragile fruit situation, I wanted to let you know that the elevator in the loft is on the damn fritz. I lug my canvases up the back stairs; annoyed at first, having to go pee, and then beyond frustration I begin to laugh remembering our little cubby inside the farmhouse. You know the place. Under the stairs. We'd hide there when Dad began to yell. You'd grab your little Dixie Cup bean plant. Masking tape emblazoned with your official title marked in scribbled handwriting. All upper case. THE PLANT KEEPER.  Of all the things you wanted to protect while he smashed his way through the creaky floored rooms was your sprouted greenery.  

Forget about the apples for this season my love.  Nature has decided. 

I've started a new series of paintings. "Miracle Whip". This triptych is called, 'Whose Joint Is This Anyway?". The Latino lady who runs the bodega smirked and her cousin was so offended.    

What do you think?

Oh. And about the rainfall. You better do another dance tonight. It didn't work.

Love Currie

(Read the whole story here)

Patti Friday, Photojourno, reporting from inside 'The Art Dept.' at the international 'Embassy of Ideas'.