Apples and Oranges

appleWe finally made the big move from Windows to Mac. That’s right, since 2008 we’ve been working with Windows computers and software. Changing tools was not as simple as, say, switching from an old car to a new model from a different manufacturer. It required several months of planning, as well as implementation.

The first order of business was porting over thousands of files created over the years, reorganizing them, archiving, and (in some cases) deleting, and then setting up shop in the clouds — namely,  Adobe’s Creative Cloud. That meant getting all new versions of the apps we reply on, as shown in the screen-shot below.


Adobe Photoshop topped the list, and switching to the Mac version required updating all the various plug-ins, such as Retrographer for special effects. (A review of the Mac version will appear in January.) In some cases the apps we used had no Mac version, so replacements had to be found and tested.

But now all the grunt work is behind us. We’re back!—armed with MacBooks and iPads and ready for action.


Thanks for your patience.

Happy New Year to all!




Taking a step back and trying to be objective, Hotel Ortolan reminds me of those early paperbacks published by City Lights… little gems like A Hundred Camels in the Courtyard  and True Minds. Or, perhaps, Breton’s illustrated novel Nadja published by Grove Press. Certainly Michel Varisco’s photographs are equally haunting.

Ortolan is the sort of slender surrealist volume one dreams of encountering at a bookshop in Paris. The door on the cover dares you to enter. And, of course, you do. You open that forbidding door, step inside and then…well, it’s too late. Whalen’s words are in your bloodstream. The book is destined to be  displayed face out on one’s bookshelf, or even under glass. It’s surely not an edition one loans to a friend, as it will never be returned. It won’t find itself in a box at a yard sale in Greenwich, or at the Salvation Army in Sacramento. Maybe, just maybe, a copy will appear in the bin outside Strand in NYC, but only because it arrived from an estate sale and was mistakenly sorted by an ignorant temp.

Limited to only 125 copies, it’s already imbued with the aura of an avant-garde classic that collectors will search for without success.

“Ever seen a copy of Whalen’s Ortolan?”

Here’s your chance…