After moving into the lower Haight Street flat of my then saxophone-playing boyfriend, I soon found out he was having a romance on the side. I suppose that I made him so miserable that he eventually moved out of the sunny apartment and it was mine.
I enjoyed the raw art scene happening in the neighborhood.
There was a marble sculptor on the ground floor. A friend down the street had a storefront selling his futuristic “Bodyware.” He had a great record collection so the vibe was always happening in the place. Another friend had a storefront art gallery that sometimes became an after-hours scene when the bars closed for the night.
From my 3rd story deck, there was a staircase down to the ground floor where there was a small room with the heaters and gear that made the building run. It became my painting studio. I was making 3-dimensional paintings from illustration board scraps I got from my job and built *stepped-up layers from stacks of square bits to give elevate one level to the next.
One piece lit up in a box with floating painted shapes. I then played with the shapes being 3 dimensional. More and more complex to piece together seamlessly. Hot glue bonded it all. I would continue with this direction when I moved into a huge studio downtown and made full-sized room facades with the pieces.
