Bellas Artes

Last night I received a real, gen-u-ine paper letter from a certain Berry Breene (take note, other friends, the bar's been raised). Ms. Breene and I met as unmotivated freshman. We were unsuccessful roommates our sophomore year. We almost missed the last train home in Koln, Germany, because I managed to deposit my wallet under a chair at a bar half a mile away. We went to Amsterdam and enjoyed the sights, and pretended not to speak English on the train to avoid backpackers. She showed up in New Zealand and we climbed a very large hill, then had to run down so we wouldn't get trapped in the woods at night with the dangerous kiwi bird about. We even survived a down-under chicken attack together:

I think they wanted their eggs back. Anyhow.

We also lived together rather successfully our senior year, most likely due to the fact that we were both in solitary confinement working on our undergraduate theses, known 'round Allegheny as the Comp. Please note, English teachers, that this can be used as a verb and adjective as well as a noun, as in: "I'm comping this semester," or "Guess who's de-comped!"

I digress. In this amazingly tangible paper letter of mine there is a photocopy of a page in the Village Voice. In said photocopy, one can see the reproduction of my girl Berry Breene's painting Viva la Revolution of my boy Sam Breene with a PBR and his hand down his pants:


Congratulations Ms. Breene, you are a bona fide artist. Check her out.

Now Berry has been working for oh, forever, on a gigantic mural that will be put up back in Meadville, our college town (which I have heard is going to be the film site for the movie version of Cormac McCarthy's The Road, which is set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. No joke. Can someone verify or disprove this?) Here she is doing her thing:


Very soon she will be packing off, prospector-style for the west, bringing her muralistic stylings to Portland, Oregon. I am told that Kate Ickes will keep her from misplacing her bills, clients, head, and what not. Bueno suerte, chicas, I expect to see Portland covered in Berry-art whenever I manage to visit.

And so, finally, as a toast to Berry, I offer up a few of the many, many murals that cover just about every surface in this city. Maybe I'll make it a series: The Berry Breene Commemorative Mural Exhibition Series. Catchy.