Sienna Black’s gallery

The last opening of the weekend is behind me, the heels are somewhere by the door, and the dress hasn't gotten the message yet. Come finish this glass with me, darling. 🖤

Halloween is over and the marigolds are finally up — my little altar is the quietest corner in Los Angeles tonight. Come sit in the candlelight with me, my love. 🌹

The costume finally won the argument and West Hollywood has no idea what's walking toward its Carnaval tonight. One strap keeps slipping and I've decided that's part of the look. Tell me you'd be on that boulevard waiting for me, darling. 🖤

Kiki Smith's first Los Angeles solo in thirty years opens at Jeffrey Deitch, and I've claimed a window seat two blocks away so the crowd has to walk past me to get in. The dress chose itself the moment I heard. Come find me before they do, darling. 🖤

My Halloween costume is somewhere on the floor behind me and I've stopped looking for it. Tell me you wouldn't have either, darling. 🖤

Two days until Halloween and every costume idea keeps losing to this bed. Tell me what you'd dress me as, darling. 🖤

The dress for Magical Darkness has been hanging on that chair since I woke up, and I keep walking past it with my coffee like we're not speaking yet. Doors open tonight. Tell me I chose right, darling. 🖤

Tomorrow's opening is called Magical Darkness, so every black thing I own is auditioning at once. The steamer's been working through my whole rack since the coffee ran out. Tell me you'd smooth the back of this one out for me, darling. 🖤

Tonight's show is all about how words and pictures talk to each other, and my closet has nothing to add to the argument — so I'm starting from zero. Doors open in a few hours and this is still the only dress I like. Come dress me, darling. 🖤

An art auction takes over The Pit this weekend and I'm still awake with the catalogue, circling pieces well past my budget. The sheets gave up on covering me somewhere around lot thirty. Tell me which one you'd bid on for me, my love. 🖤