Tag Archives: painting

Conversations with Angels

Licketysplit is flying back today from the Galapagos. She says that the little creatures are indeed still evolving. I refuse to believe it, until I see actual proof of their hooked beaks, and their gaping craws. What? Oh, my fact checker says she was actually in Baltimore. Oh yes, we have a fact checker now. No more wild claims such as “3 cheese Doritos are low in Tar”, or “ugly people have lives, too”. Oh, Baltimore, it is too bad that domestic flights no longer offer food service, or I am sure you would be enjoying some embattled string beans with a frisson of watery melted butter.

While she was off, agog at the chancred locals, I prepared myself for the annual urban warfare that normally follows the winning of the Super Bowl. My disappointment is severe. ALLSTON, You Do Not Know How to Riot. I will sue the first person that even attempts to call that shameful non-event a Riot. Where once we saw burning couches and drunken students tumbling from the tops of lampposts and hopefully fracturing their spines, we now have cheerful people milling about, occasionally whooping and communing with one another, their happiness at the outcome. Fie!

Someone suggested recently that I “shove my f@&*ing copycat Alice Neel paintings up my f@#$ing a^&”. Needless to say it turned out to be a fat person who has a live journal for their dog, and not the Village Voice. Though grateful for the input, I continue nonetheless to paint. When it is working, it is nothing less than a conversation with angels. Most recently, I have shaken hands with the president, and we are lighting the cigars, because I am selling two large paintings to our fancy new offices on the 22nd floor of this tower. I won’t say how much, I will only say that the drinks are on me, just this once.


Has the Perrier Gone Straight to My Head?

I have been working very hard in the manner of Jane, Get me off this crazy thing. The subjects for the portraits I have been comissioned to do showed up at my apartment on Friday afternoon. And I Morrisseyed day and night and finished the two pictures on Saturday. Which is like some kind of record for me. I wanted to be finished in time for my dear friend Smilla’s birthday extravaganza on Saturday night. With my work finished, and my mind awhirl, I was ready to get good and Awesome. The party had sort of a sixties theme so I secured a cylidrical structure to my head and sprayed and spackled my hair over it. Now that my hair has gotten so long, topiary is possible. Next time I will sculpt a giraffe.

I made everyone dance to an extended version of Crimson and Clover.

Sunday in Berlin, the clothes, the cafe brunches, and VIKTOR, Berlin’s most beautiful man. I went to my favorite fleamarket in dem Arkunerplatz, and I knew I was at his table before I even saw him, by the character of the clothes on the rack. He was dallying somewhere, but as I turned over one chic-y micky seventies dress after another, I knew his dirty smile and snarky glint could not be far. I wait all year for my five minutes to bask in Viktor on a Sunday. Sure enough, he is there to tell someone with a fleeting eyeroll that they look amazing and to say hello to “well, everyone…all those….people”. Everyone is a so-and-so next to Viktoriano. Of course for the fifth year running I am too shy to say much more than hello to the coolest cat around. One day I will get his picture, do a portrait. Put a lock of his hair in the secret drawer of an old clock, right next to the gold threaded swatch of Morrissey’s shirt from 1989.

Or something insane like that.

A second look at the paintings tells me I should do a little more work on one before I present them to the client tomorrow night. And five drawings still to do for the Kunst Ring.

Wish me luck, Morrissey!


Stretch Out and Wait

I made it alive to Berlin, despite Northwestern Airlines’ steadfast efforts to kill me. They offered a tray full of dumpster trailings for my dinner, and a thimble for my drink. This shallow potable must have been meant for the infant three rows back, who squalled interminably without his mother’s little helper. I long for days when “leave the bottle” actually meant something. I implore you all to fly British Airways and enjoy a hot Korma and some cognac. Next time I find myself in the cheap seats, I will pack a rag soaked with ether. I won’t say for whom.

Anyway, Morrissey, I find myself in dem Vaterland, with my work cut out for me. I have been engaged to do several drawings for an organization that will reproduce them en masse to sell at their bookstore. In looking through the brochure from past years, I see that there are many prominent artists taking part. Apparently one of the organizers saw my work in the gallery, and asked for my grafik. I can hardly wait to get started, and will fill a small biplane with the results, and rain them o’er the land!

My second task is to paint two portraits by Monday. Yes, that is a terrifying three days from now. I met my subjects today and they are lovely, fresh-faced little things, so I am not too worried (this is a lie-ed.)

By Morrissey, I had a lovely day though! Before my meeting in the gallery, I was free to roam about town and it was a lovely autumn day. I had a superb lunch in a french cafe. For seven dollars I got soup, salad, a lamb ragout, and some glazed pear slices. All served in those appropriate dollops that leave you feeling sated but not stuffed like an armchair.

I restocked my studio here this evening, and have the evening free to drink wine and wait for the first sitting tomorrow. So ignore all the codes of the day, let your juvenile impulses swaaaay….


Guten Tag, Berlin

For your viewing pleasure here in the Vomitorium, treat this is one of my newer paintings. I have sold it to the Ladengalerie in Berlin for the next exhibition in 2005. So if you want to see it, tadalafil get on a plane to Tegel. I promised the Kids in Germany that I would report to them once a week-ish in a language they can understand. Humorless and efficient? No, German!

Ich bit seit einer Woche wieder hier in Boston und wollte sagen das es richtig schön war, wieder bei Euch zu sein, auch wenn nur kurz. Es läuft prima bei dem neuen Job- das Büro is wahnsinnig cool, viel feiner und hübscher als das alte (Ich habe einen neuen windows xp mit einem flachem LCD Bildschirm- geil, wahr?). Ich habe auch schon angefangen einen Galerie hier zu suchen für die Ausstellung 2005 und werde berichten wenn was davon geworden ist. Mein Zimmer ensteht noch eine Explosion aus dem Gepäck. Ich habe zu viel zu tun gehabt, um mich darum kümmern zu können. Zwei Wörter: David Bowie.

Unter dieser Meldung kann man auf Comments klicken und nachrichten lassen. Also, ihr könnten meine viele Fehler beim schreiben merken oder mir einfach sagen wie toll ich bin!

Bis Bald!

Behold my Awesomeness

I have finally finished my portrait of my roommate Abbs, a soft and lovely girl. I painted her like someone that you imagine smells nice…and has bruises on her legs. I have started a new one of a cigar sucking androgyn. An athlete with long brown hair and polka dots. I am going to paint all the lovely girls of my acquaintance, so stay tuned. Oh, and if you happen to be one of these, do volunteer! And pull the sailor suit out of your closet and your crutches and your favorite underwear and purple eyeshadow and get your cans over to my house!

In other news of stunning feats, I cleaned my room.

I am also pleased to report that I Feel F°!”§ing Awesome because I went to the gym yesterday and rowed 60 lbs, like, until I died. Then I came home and gorged on lasagna. Like Garfield. So I went back to the gym again today and redid my good work of yesterday. And I feel like I could kill someone with my bare hands. Like really overpower someone and strangle them while their blows across my chest grow weaker and weaker. ahem.

Hooray for feeling good!

It’s time for sushi and sake. and violence.