Reflection

Self-reflection becomes tedious.

Listening to Arcade Fire's Black Mirror...my latest favorite music.

Mirror mirror on wall...

I admit to possession of five substantial mirrors hanging in various locations...not counting the very large one attached to the dining room wall and smaller one on the medicine cabinet door.

A heavy squarish one with pale grey art deco base was once the mate to a vintage dresser I was given when I moved into my East Village apartment the summer of 1979. Over the years, I painted and re-painted the walnut wood with red, white, black, grey. The functional piece had annoying sticky drawers and I dropped it at my local Goodwill store before leaving Denver in 2005.

The rectangle framed in weathered aqua wood was captured at a Denver flea market in 2001.

Another with an avocado green architectural frame is back in my life again. Found in a New York junk shop during the 1980s, then passed on to the family cottage in 1992, I wound up with it again when I found myself furnishing my new life in Buffalo.

Hanging by the back door is an oval mirror attached to a silver plywood backing. It features a question handwritten in red lipstick...Who are you? Originally one section of a five-part installation shown at Boulder Artists Gallery in 1993.

Most recently acquired at a garage sale down the street is another detailed wood frame painted my favorite metallic silver.

Mirrors reflect vanity, curiosity, disconnection, unity. The universe is my mirror.