Sunday, October 06, 2013

Pastries for my exhibition, words to live by, Nick's on Broadway, another exhibition and selling my past

So, a little over a week ago, in fact a week ago this past Thursday, I had the opening reception of my photo exhibition at the Johnson & Wales University Library. Susie, AKA The French Tarte kindly provided the pastries. It was a nice turnout, and while I sold several pieces of art (they'll be on display through December) in my mind the pastries were the big hit.

Of course we returned to Nick's for a casual dinner sitting at the counter. . . Oh and we dropped by one of the local galleries in Pawtucket for another art reception. This one included the work of Pam Dwight, a neighbor of Susie's in Hope Artiste Village.

Lastly, I sold the jungle boots I wore in Vietnam, complete with dog-tag jammed down inside the tongue of one of the boots where it had been stuck since 1969. . . The last of my Vietnam paraphernalia is now gone.


Caramel nut tart

shortbreads

mini pain au chocolat

chocolate moelleux with caramel mascarpone swirl


financiers





"to live in hearts left behind, is not to die" - epitaph at Swan Point

sitting at the counter. . . the new gold old days



amuse buche



pasta app. . . 


beef with fingerlings and mushrooms


Susie contemplating a self-portrait of the artist (Pam Dwight by Pam Dwight)

mud from Vietnam is still caked in the instep vents

2 comments:

Mannie Gentile said...

Steve,
Congratlations on your show and sales. Susan's pastries are nearly breathtaking.

So tell me, what prompted you to sell your boots, and how do you feel about that?

Mannie

Steve Soper said...

The show was fun, I must say! Plus, I got to try printing on metal (not me personally, of course) and the results look pretty cool.

As for the boots well, the uniforms are all long gone and I digitized my VN photos and sold those last year and the boots were the last to go really. Frankly I'm not sure why I sold them, maybe I just got tired of carrying them around all these years. Some parts of our past are better left to go their own way, maybe?