The artist and filmmaker conducts a thorough inventory of the many belongings lurking in her drawers, closets, and storage.

WORDS

DATE

SHARE

Twitter
LinkedIn
Facebook
Email

1. Pigeon-shaped oven mitt that I always forget to use, so I burn my fingers.
2. Tiny single serving Italian stovetop espresso maker. I refuse to buy a larger size, which makes my mornings complicated.
3. Austrian bronze figurine from the 1920s of a cat using a latrine. I bought it because it reminded me of Holga, who suffered from constipation.
4. Graphite portrait of Holga by an Etsy artist. It was a prop in El Planeta, and now covers the electrical switchboard.
5. Yoga mat, barely used but heavily scratched by Gemi.
6. Telephone-shaped lamp that I bought from a man on the subway on my way to meet JT Leroy (who famously loved long phone calls).
7. One red pompom that Holga used to play with. The others were put in her casket when she was buried in Hartsdale.
8. A gorilla-shaped plush toy that Variety chose on his first visit to Petco.
9. Too many reusable bags from Zabar’s. Not enough from Agata & Valentina.
10. Elephant-shaped watering can from my favorite hardware store.
11. Blue penguin-shaped pitcher from Buenos Aires.
12.
Ugly iPhone case with a giant magnet on it from a strange windshield tripod contraption that I keep on forgetting to swap, except for when I take a mirror selfie and realize how ugly it is.
13. Clay rabbit playing the trumpet, purchased in LA across the street from El Cholo.
14. Trumpet-shaped candle holder.
15. Very dirty Holga’s Meow Pictures clear bag full of gravel from the dog park.

16. Homemade fly trap that Nick made with an empty glass jar from Duval.
17. Ugly light blue and yellow Asturias polyester hat that is surprisingly very flattering.
18. Candid photograph of Felix Bressart in a Hollywood Studio lot, squinting because it is sunny in LA.
19. Rare Spanish distribution promo posters of Keith McNally’s 1990 film End of the Night. It’s on the kitchen for obvious reasons.
20. Monkey-shaped lemon juicer. I fought for it at a flea market in Buenos Aires and regretted not buying it. Nick managed to find it for me that Christmas.
21. Bird-shaped lemon squeezer.
22. Box full of cables, unsorted since 2021.
23. Black toolbox from the Home Depot in Westlake, LA.
24. Ziplock full of Gemi’s fur that Nick gave me to cheer me up when I was shooting on location.
25. A photo of a man, supposedly my great-grandfather Ulises, strolling down the street in Buenos Aires. My paternal grandmother lied a lot, so it might not be him.
26. Half-empty bottle of Vichy Catalan, now flat. Tastes like seawater without the carbonation.
27. A cane that turns into a stool that I use for directing my films. I always buy the same model.
28. Ten bags of cat litter because I forgot to pause the Chewy subscription.
29. Art Deco 1920s photo frame that came with a 1920s clipping of Kay Francis. People ask if she’s my grandmother.
30. Daguerreotype portrait of me holding Holga’s baby comb. I lost the comb.

31. Wooden chair that transforms into a ladder.
32. Wooden chair that becomes an ironing board.
33. A business card for a real estate agent from New Jersey who came to the Magic Farm screening at Angelika and loved it.
34. A T-shirt that same real estate agent made. It has the whole alphabet on it except for the X because he doesn’t like Elon Musk.
35. Dirty Amazon cat window beds. I intended for them to be temp but sometimes temp becomes perm.
36. Very rudimentary wooden platform to train Variety’s hind legs. It’s plywood covered with office carpet on four plastic pegs.
37. Spanish cassette Música Maravillosa Para Gente Maravillosa Vol 3 that I bought in a Spanish flea market for 1€.
38. Spanish cassette Música Maravillosa Para Gente Maravillosa Vol 1 that Nick bought for me online because Vol. 3 is so good.
39. Handwritten bodega sign that says “PUSH.”
40. A printed photo of Variety from a dog daycare in Washington, DC.
41. Half-eaten tortilla de patatas. First Spanish omelet I’ve ever made.
42. White ceramic compost bin, broken lid.
43. Variety’s yellow patent raincoat from Canine Styles.
44. Variety’s green plaid raincoat from Canine Styles.
45. Capelli Sport Palestino Soccer Club raincoat covered in mud.

46. Ms. Sundae’s 2025 photo calendar. Sadly, her last. R.I.P. @sundaetheblacklab
47. Dirty Le Creuset blue kettle that I should clean more often.
48. A few boxes of Raspberry leaf tea that I forget to drink.
49. A large container of Churu. I give half a Churu to Gemi on the kitchen windowsill while Variety is on his morning walk.
50. Little service bell that I use to let Gemi know that her food is ready. It was originally used to let her know the dog was gone but they are friends now.
51. Black little kitchen radio. I listen to the radio a lot.
52. Bedroom radio.
53. Sitting room radio. If all the radios are on the same station, it’s like having an expensive multi room audio system.
54. Gemi’s broken peacock feather.
55. On the fridge, a menu from Chirpin Chicken and a magnet of a smiley Eva Perón.
56. Petco credit card customized with a photo of Gemi looking grumpy and Variety looking silly.
57. Very realistic felt replica of Holga that a Japanese fan commissioned for me. It is so realistic that it made my mother cry.
58. A Polaroid of my mother and Holga attached with a paperclip to a box of vitamins.
59. Container of Reishi mushroom vitamins that I never took and have probably gone bad by now.
60. An exact replica of the Leonard Cohen poster that my ex took with him when we broke up because I always thought that poster was mine.

61. Dog training clicker that doubles up as a business card and a keychain. A great idea by Variety’s first trainer from when he was a puppy. He also trained a dog for the president of the Andy Warhol Foundation, apparently.
62. A very 2000s looking Panasonic CD and Casette player that I bought recently because why not. I listen to CDs now. I don’t like using bluetooth.
63. Two giant Bodum replacement glass jars that Nick bought by mistake, never managed to return and now double up as flower vases.
64. Flowers that I cut last Sunday at a U-Pick Flower Farm upstate that are unfortunately already dying.
65. A box of Effervescent Alka-Seltzer for the flowers so they don’t die.
66. A box of flower food from Amazon because I read that saving flowers with Alka-Seltzer is a myth.
67. Heart-shaped photo frame with a photo I took of Nick on our first road trip when we went to Saratoga to taste all the different the waters.
68. My water sommelier certificate from the Doemens Academy in Munich.
69. A curved wooden ruler for sewing that I never knew how to use properly.
70. Prym pearlized pins that were certainly overpriced when I bought them in Midtown.
71. Dirty paddock boots that I haven’t used since I adopted Variety because he’s sort of like a horse anyway.
72. Box of Marlboro Light cigarettes that I bought while I was in Paris for 24hrs.
73. Ugly tote bag from Edgar’s Café with a drawing of Edgar Allan Poe wearing sunglasses and sipping on an iced latte that I’m emotionally attached to because the owner of the café loves Variety and insists on giving him ice cubes to chew on.
74. Moschino zebra suit that was Leo’s costume in El Planeta.
75. Cheap polyester gaucho poncho from Barrio del Once in Buenos Aires.

76. Expensive 19th-century poncho with holes that was woven by local indigenous people in Areco.
77. Hello Kitty poncho made in Ecuador that I bought in Koreatown Los Angeles.
78. Handwoven carpet from Afghanistan showing a series of tanks and guns that because of the child-like design look more like bugs and horses.
79. Very comfortable grandpa-like reading chair that Gemi did a magnificent job at destroying. In my mind it looks like a Josef Hoffmann piece of furniture.
80. Wooden art deco black cat-shaped ashtray that the seller said had been part of the set design for a recent horror movie, can’t remember which one. It was like the seventh film in the series.
81. Framed fashion magazine spread depicting a cat hissing. The copy reads: Hissey Miyake.
82. Broken and wobbly marble cafe table that I refuse to throw out. Too many nice meals took place on it. It creaks in a very specific way when Gemi walks on top of it.
83. Promotional sweatshirt of a festival organized in Japan by Francis Ford Coppola and Shiseido in occasion of the restoration of Abel Gance’s Napoléon in 1980s.
84. Tiny metallic photo holder with space for four photographs that a soldier carried with him to WW2. It says “I LOVE YOU” in English, Spanish, German, Chinese, Russian, Danish, and Portuguese.
85. Hidden Disabilities lanyard.
86. Dollar General children’s floaty from that I use in that swimming hole upstate that’s behind a restaurant.
87. Soccer ball-looking inflatable neck contraption that I bought for Variety when he got neutered.
88. Ballet flats so worn down that I think of Amy Winehouse every time I wear them, and I get sad.
89. 
Two large paper bags full of empty containers for recycling. Once I got fined for taking out the recycling on the wrong day, and now I’m always scared I’m going to get the dates wrong.
90. Large partition from the checkout area of the now-closed fake Whole Foods on the Upper West Side, run by cult-ish wellness guru Gary Null. It’s covered in security photos of shoplifters.

91. A feather that Bob the Pigeon shed when we lived together in LA.
92. Framed photo of a shy little cat that my neighbors texted me to ask if that was my cat Holga, in case she had escaped. Instead it was Gemi, then a street cat begging for food. I adopted her soon after.
93. Medieval looking velvet pouch from Salzburg that I use to hold American coins because I had a friend who was an anarchist clown that used a little leather pouch to carry his money around and that really marked me when I was an impressionable teenager.
94. An empty blue VHS box that once protected a tape about monks. It was given to me when I attended a weekend Catholic seminary about Edith Stein. It now holds all my foreign currency, mostly Renminbi because I still hope to go to China sometime soon.
95. Very white and pasty foundation by North Korean beauty brand Koryo.
96. Blue plastic crate I found in the streets of Princeton. It is a wonderful blue-lilac tone. I painted my toenails to match it that day and I’ve been painting my toenails blue-ish since.
97. Tiny one-inch-tall replica of an Evian bottle. It is glued to the top of an outlet in the kitchen.
98. Promotional Evian mug. It is now missing the handle but I still drink my coffee from it.
99. Twelve empty bottles of novelty mineral waters from Eastern Europe.
100. Three humidifiers that did their job during the dry New York apartment winter months.

We’ve Waited All Year For This…

Our 10th annual Young Artist list is here, comprised of 27 names you need to know ahead of 2026.

You’ve almost hit your limit.

You’re approaching your limit of complimentary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.
You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

GET ACCESS

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Pop-Up-1_c
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
Pop-Up-1_c

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Pop-Up-1_c
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
Pop-Up-1_c

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’ve almost hit your limit.

You’re approaching your limit of complimentary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

This is a Critics' Table subscriber exclusive.

Subscribe to keep reading and support independent art criticism.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Pop-Up-1_c

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Pop-Up-1_c

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’ve reached your limit.

Sign up for a digital subscription, starting at less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want a seat at the table? To continue reading this article, sign up today.

Support independent criticism for $10/month (or just $110/year).

Already a subscriber? Log in.