Yeah, it's another picture of my little pots. But they look so festive with candy canes sticking out of them (J.R.'s idea). Here's wishing you and yours a happy holiday filled with family, friends, booze, and good furniture. DETAILS: VASES BY THE RURAL MODERNIST, STOCKING BY HABLE CONSTRUCTION, ALUMINUM TREE AND ASSORTED FLEA MARKET PAINTINGS FOUND AT LOCAL BARN SALES, ORNAMENTS FROM THE MOMA STORE AND KATE SPADE OUTLET.

Since I spend virtually all of my time on the computer, I was itching to do something totally analog and old school and really get my hands dirty. So, I took a two month class at the Women's Studio Workshop in Rosendale, NY. I convinced my fellow country bumpkin and blog bud Joe to join me so I wouldn't be the only dude in the building. Luckily, they embraced our male auras completely and welcomed us into the sisterhood.

I started off with a big ole hunk of clay (fig. 1), gradually learned how to throw on the wheel (fig. 2), and ended up with this charming collection of vessels, vases, and bowls (fig. 3). I was very consciously trying my best to channel Eva Zeisel and Jonathan "See ya' later, decorator" Adler and it's a lot harder than it looks to get those wavy gravy curves and silhouettes. Nowadays I'm really digging the futuristic/archaic pots at Atwater Pottery and the Ernst Haeckel radiolarian inspired sculptures of Pamela Sunday. I'm looking forward to knocking them both off next semester since I'm too cheap to buy the real thing.

Here's a quick post of some pix I took today in the blizzard. Ain't it purdy?

I launched my first blog, Doodle Whore, over a year ago as a repository for my doodles and observations on popular culture (OK, mainly Britney, cough cough).

But I also have a passion for antiquing, flea marketing, interiors, art, crafts, music, food, and architecture which I wanted to blab about, but it really didn't fit in with my trashy Doodle Whore oeuvre. I'm a voracious reader of design blogs and shelter mags, but I find that many are simply too girly, too decorator-y, too serious, or just too perfect for me. If I have to read one more story about Hollywood Regency slipper chairs or floral abstract poppy patterned tea towels I'll barf.

So here I give you my perspective as The Rural Modernist: an illustrator and greeting card peddler living two hours north of New York City in the Catskills with his boyfriend and dog, listening to The Smiths and Madonna while rearranging the furniture, surfing the net for more crap, scavenging through barns and tag sales, watching bad t.v., and keeping the bears out of the bird feeder*.

Yours truly,
The Rural Modernist

* OK. I don't actually do that because I'm in charge of the inside and my bf's in charge of the outside. And I'm a total wuss. There, I said it.

P.S. for all of you peeps coming from the house tour on Apartment Therapy, here's the place for you to ask questions and get some answers about my pad and my stuff. On my next post I'll be going more in-depth about those cheap woven grass floor poofs, my Smiths posters, the tacky plate collection, and much more.