The Metropolitan Museum Of Goodwill. 5th in a series

I love her.  She came from a National Council of Jewish Women's Thrift Shop about 15 years ago.  It's a beautiful deep blue background and written around our hip little gamine, like a halo, are the kind of doodles and phrases (en francais, naturellement) that you'd find on the notebooks of any girl you went to Junior High with.  Suns, choo-choo trains, male figures with declarations about her love of vacations and someone called Dodo.

A signature in the upper left corner simply says "Angelo '62", which is surprising because I find her to be very modern for 1962.  But she is, after all, French! 

It hangs on the wall across from my bed so she is virtually the first thing I see every morning upon awakening.

click me, mon ami, I will get bigger for you

The Metropolitan Museum of Goodwill - 4th in a series.

Found in a thrift shop in North Hollywood (that no longer exists) about ten years ago:

It's a wood block print of two boys with a yo-yo.  I love the suggestion of one set of angel's wings surrounding them.  It's signed: Charlotte Weston and A/Proof.  Can't find out anything about her but the piece makes me very happy.  Hangs in the dining room.
Paid $10.

The Metropolitan Museum Of Goodwill - 3rd in a series

About a dozen years ago, I was browsing through a thrift shop that no longer exists.  It had high 16ft. ceilings that were hung with pictures in rows that went all the up to the top.  My attentions were squarely on a rack of shirts that I was rifling through when I glance over and up.  Oh that's kinda cool, I thought looking at a piece waaay high up on the wall.  Kinda looks like a Calder.  Standing under it I looked up and, sure enough it was a Calder.  Then I saw that the signature was in pencil, as in hand signed!

"Um, excuse me, could I see that one please?", I said as casually as I could.  "Yeah, sure," the store attendant grumbled as he grabbed his ladder and started what felt like a 20 minute shuffle across the store.

He hoisted it down and, once it was in my hands, I really started to shake.  I really did love it, and sure enough in the lower right hand corner "Calder" in pencil!  In the lower left corner, "E.A."   E.A. and A.P. are interchangeable terms for 'artist proof''; a much smaller (usually 20) edition of prints intended for the artist's personal use.

"How much for this?" I asked with total disinterest."  "20", he said from his perch atop the ladder.  "20?!", my shocked indignation was perfectly metered.  "Ok, I'll do 19."  I was starting to worry that he would be able to see my quivering over the thought of getting a signed Calder for $19, but strange things happen to one once the haggling begins and I just couldn't resist a final,  "Ok, but 19 flat; no tax."  (the cheek!)  Before he could fully consider the suggestion, let alone descend the ladder, I had peeled off 19 bucks, left it on a shelf next to a broken rubiks cube that sat on top of a copy of  "Call Me Anna".  I then sprinted back to my car.

It hangs over the fireplace.

The Metropolitan Museum of Goodwill - 2nd in a series.

We continue to peruse my art collection:


As the bungalow isn't nearly as grand, or require nearly as much upkeep as Chateau Thombeau,  I require a much smaller Board Of Directors.  And times being tight, they also double as the Felix In Hollywood House Band.