Marisa Newman and Irena Popiashvili Close Chelsea Gallery, Pursue Projects Overseas

the street begins to change . . .


Dealers Irena Popiashvili and Marisa Newman, who ran an eponymous gallery located on West 22nd Street in Chelsea, have parted ways to embark on independent ventures. The pair closed the gallery, which represented a roster of artists including Michel Auder and Basim Magdy, last August when their lease came to an end. “I decided to reconsider how a gallery could function and I was excited to explore the idea of working with artists without a permanent space/location,” wrote Ms. Newman in an email to Gallerist.

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shifting just pass neutral . . .

so week one is under the belt . . .

the new coffee maker is awesome

being able to toast bread is an amazing liberty

the hvac systems in each room (remote control no less) are phenomenal

there has as of yet been no need to turn on the heat – yes the insulation in the building is amazing

the proximity to the train makes commuting to the city a breeze

the fruit & vegetable stand just down the block (mr. kiwi) is amazing (fresh juice is 2.00usd & the produce selection makes me miss the north hollywood farmer’s market

did i mention how amazing the queen sized bed is with new sheets & pillows ( ?? ) . . . well it is !!

having an in house pre-installed hard-wired in-apartment network is brilliant !!

the refrigerator & stove (only drawback is they’re both electric) are stainless steel, hard to clean & pretty – very pretty

even the pre-installed lighting is slightly beyond acceptable teetering on excellent

there is an entire room FULL of boxes – shared possessions unpacked waiting for new shelves (which i will be building myself from repurposed recycled wood & half inch pipe . . . ace hotel style)

there are two cats small mammals with unique individual fully realized personalities also sharing the space learning to come out from the dark corners becoming familiar not only with brooklyn air but me & all my “ways” as well (as i am learning them)

these last nine days have opened me

i am grateful

i have been back in the city for just over three years & finally feel that i am “landing” & more importantly “taking root”

just wanted to share

Boarding: Train to Standingdeskville

interesting article . . .


If you haven’t gotten on the train to Standingdeskville, a recent study, published in the journal Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise includes results that might help you punch your ticket.  Using data from NHANES (the US Health and Nutrition Examination Survey), Gennuso et al found that participants who sat the most hours every day had greater odds of elevated blood sugar, high blood pressure, a poor cholesterol profile, and higher levels of body-wide inflammation, regardless of how much exercise those individuals got during the day.  Essentially, it didn’t matter if you ran marathons or walked on a treadmill before work, if you went to the office and sat for 8 hours, then sat for 3-4 hours at home after dinner watching the telly, you had higher levels of the bio-markers that indicate overall health.


Another study, published in 2012 by the British Journal of Sports Medicine examined the…

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pondering departure(s)

i am sitting on the huron pier (greenpoint, brooklyn)
– staring at the mid-day light refracting off of the east river shading the shadows of the buildings of mid-town manhattan

i have been quite ill for two weeks
– first the flu, now a lower respiratory tract infection

age is catching up with me

in order to move forward (with intention / with purpose) i have to let so many things go . . . all attachments to the past must be released in order to embrace this present (this future)

releasing is all encompassing – daunting / intimidating / threatening . . . et cetera . . . & mandatory

so many things are, “right in front of me” . . .
– amazing job
– amazing relationship
– amazing apartment
just to name three damn near numbs me into immobility

sitting here
watching each individual cell composed of two parts hydrogen one part oxygen combine & crash into this forgotten steel & concrete beach collectively as waves inspires me

water has always taught me

i grew up at the intersection of the mississippi & missouri rivers . . . i was only & always “myself” there

i fought for it

i used to go, once a week, to the “shore” & listen to the waves meander

thirty plus years later i am sitting – here & no, the world no longer is similar to that place of distinct lines & anchors

here / now . . . i have to let them go (float out into the world without me) – not an easy task – but, i must

i want to get down into the water (but it’s gross & i’m sick) so i won’t . . .

i will instead be the light that illuminates the discarded brick & mortar of greenpoint, brooklyn (shining just below a sheltering bulge of algae long accustomed to the touch of steel) & move on . . . leaving all i remember of brooklyn behind me

i will miss this place

as i miss carroll gardens; park slope south; fort greene; red hook; williamsburg & windsor terrace

i can learn to coalesce, collaborate & concede . . . i have to

so good-bye greenpoint / goodbye to most that made greenpoint real . . . & thank you

i am on the cusp of becoming . . .
– the shore of dreams –

i have wanted to live i bed-stuy my entire life

i will visit you frequently but you are no longer my home

the room(s) i made have turned into a way of living . . .
of sharing space / of becoming

i am no longer afraid of succeeding (roma)
– i am now breathing my life

anchors up

sails down

’tis time to live !!

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