Why does my heart feel so bad? Why does my soul feel so lonely?

Yes...Maxi Brico is not having a very good day. Maxi is quite appalled at her emotional state this morning. I, strangely, feel like I want to listen to Billie Holiday all day and perhaps eat a pringle. Last night when I was taking off my mascara I realized that I had no one to tuck me in to my bed. All I had was a Parisian moisturizer for my face, a pumice stone for my pied, a thick duvet of Egyptian cotton (1800 thread count) and a silk penoire designed and couture made for my lithe form. But...no one to say "sleep well, Maxi"..."goodnight, oh I almost forgot (joke joke)..." and then an amazing assuring kiss...

I suppose Maxi is lonely...

So, do you know what I did...I put my favorite little black dress on and I called up my friends pilot and made him fly me to London...

So, truly, now I am in London and instead of feeling sorry for myself alone...I can feel sorry for myself within a large group of revelling patrons of a night-club...

Maxi may be silly but she is also sensible...

Oh, and, about that pringle...not for this girl...

The runway like music is fleeting but art endures...

Maxi is waxing sentimental today. I remember a moment from my youth...a mere few years ago. I was posing for an artist in Paris and all of a sudden the upstairs neighbor came through the roof clutching the sculpture he had just completed in bronze. Apparently the work was too heavy for the floor and he and it came tumbling through. After asking the young man if he was intact and functioning we swept him up into a dust pan and poured him a brandy to soothe his shattered nerves. I sauntered (I rarely do merely walk) over to the statue and found a lovely face staring back at me...it was as if I were looking into a mirror. It was as if my face and form were sculpted in bronze and in fact the sculpture was truly of...well yes, of course, me...

How did the artist sculpt me? He never met me... It turns out that this budding Rodin was spying on me through the floorboard of his upstairs garret and sculpting and pouring, molding and casting as I was painted in the studio below. It also explains the structural damage of the floor and ceiling (same thing but I had to clarify)...

This Pygmalion was drilling small holes into his floor throughout his atelier so he could see me at all my many angles and best sides...and because he had drilled so many holes into his planking the swiss cheese boards collapsed...

He met and thanked me, his ego and vertebrae bruised and I kissed him and the sculpture...





Art, at its best, does truly imitate life and Maxi imitates both life and art...

I do love bronze but it is the third prize at the Olympics...I suggested the next casting should be at least silver if not gold...oh, what about platinum...

Maxi has never been platinum...never...

I may be bronzed but my heart is soft and velvet for you...

Maxi

the threatening terror of the new year with maxi brico

The above is a recent show I did...there was real and actual hemp in that pipe...it was the first meal I had all day...

Sorry about the veil...but as you know...Maxi does not show her face on this blog...

Where should I begin...where should I open my heart and let you, my hungry reader, begin to experience the Maxi of 2007...I suppose I don't truly need to open as much as I need to explore and like Vespucci or Polo I will find that you are in my heart...tout le temps...tout le temps...

However, I have been threatened with losing work in Milan and various other thin states of Italy. I may lose work to Steve Tyler's (Aerosmith) daughter...no not Liv...darlings the other more, uh, I recently learned this word, ah yes, the other more Rubenesque daughter...

That girl eats the entire shaft of ricola before a show...not just the nourshing lunch that I always enjoy...one tic tac for breakfast, one ricola for lunch, and a gummy worm for dinner...and lots of menthol ciggies for snacking...I must indulge in something...

I have recently been enjoying the opera...It is an art form that more should appreciate...I visit singers backstage and feel a bit like an alien...they all, truly all, with wonder. I truly love the baritone voice so virile manly and yet sensitive. I think all men should sing to their lovers...maybe just a note or two in a well timed shower duet but ooh...a baritone makes maxi go mini...

I have also recently been awarded an Honorary Degree from the FIT school in NYC...I was awarded the degree in Aesthetics...not my study of it but my contribution to it...



Most grade school students are told to not start sentences with "I"...however, I was encouraged...My teacher found that when reading my words she could skip to the good parts if I started my sentence with I...she, of course, knew that the best part of the story was about...Me...or is it I...oh well...I walk well...

So, I have started my dating search again...Architects, State Comptrollers, Playwrights, Kyrgastanian Fashion Designers, New England Hairdressers, and a President...of a small nation...no, not Vatican City...but nearby...

I wish you well in the New Year...I will try to write more but BLOGGING is such a strange form to me...Do you really care what little Maxi has to say...

OF COURSE YOU DO...

xoxoxoxo for all...but don't smudge...

roar-

Maxi Brico