Doll Parts.

Laurie Simmons, still from The Music of Regret

Any of you who've been reading me for any length of time know that this blog is quite simply a record of where my eye happens to fall. Ever since I started paying attention to art about 10 years ago I've had, like, stupid crazy good fortune when it comes to receiving nudges and clues that drop out of the sky. One such push came when I briefly met the multi-hyphenate artist Laurie Simmons in Chelsea last Friday. She happened to be gallery hopping with two artists whose work I love, one of whom is a pal. I was totally unfamiliar with Simmons' work before . . . until last night when I spent way too much computer time checking out just about every page, photo, and film clip on her site. Then I moved on to YouTube. Beauty. Sadness. Puppets. Meryl Streep. What's not to like? Obviously, that's a really narrow view of her work, but it's what first took me in and knocked me on top of the head. There're also plenty of doll houses, dioramas, killah photo shoots, all laced with gender and power issues. A look back in anger with a tender eye. Me likey like a muthafucka.