This memory popped up on FB today. A year ago, I hung paintings from my Selfie Series at Blue Owl Coffee in REO Town. They looked great on that brick wall! There are ways to hang my unframed roofing paper paintings that look really cool (using wall-friendly velcro strips or binder clips).
I always check out the art when I visit a coffee shop! You can view The Selfie Series in the galleries. A few of these paintings are available in the Art for Sale section.
This playlist continues to grow as Pete and I try to reach 1000 songs. Most recently, we’ve added some Soft Cell, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Prefab Sprout, a few more B 52s, a couple of songs by Modern English and a tune by Pubic Image Limited.
*By the way, do you remember that one song by Section 25, “Looking from a Hilltop?”
Kanye West samples Section 25’s track “Hit” from their 1981 album Always Now on “FML,” featured on The Life of Pablo. —Wiki
My daughter wondered if I could learn this dance. I sent her this video twenty minutes later. Not my best work, but definitely one of my best shirts.
It sort of feels like the future is here, doesn’t it? I am both enthralled and scared to death by the idea of looking up one calm, temperate day while hiking to witness their poised and silent arrival.
First Contact is a new painting—my first of 2020. I guess my mind is still preoccupied with thoughts of the future, space and parallel time lines. This painting can be viewed in The Sublime gallery, or in the Art for Sale section. You have to wonder in how many different time lines they’ve actually already arrived.
Click on the image or content link below to enter the gallery.
I am very happy this morning. After several days of risking the swirling, foggy depths of memory, I stumbled upon a New Age artist I had been trying to remember. The CD (called Portraits) is long gone. But the beautiful, haunting sounds have stayed with me. Ingram Marshall’s Fog Tropes blew me away when I discovered it at Wherehouse Records or Flat, Black & Circular some time back in the late 80s while I was in college.
This live performance is amazing. I can’t help thinking back to conversations with Bonnie Dee and Brian about the French horn, and various trumpeters, when I worked at Curious Books in the late 90s/early 2000s.
You might also enjoy the gallery of The Sublime series, which seems connected.
I wonder if anyone has serialized a novel on a blog. It’s an idea. Here’s a passage from my novel, Your Silent Face. The editing process is almost complete.
Sometimes I’d roll up on Nigel’s house when it was deathly still, but I’d find him in there, draped across his bed, reading Surrealist poetry or analyzing chess problems in the weak light filtering through his screen-less bedroom window. “Hey, man, what’s up?” he’d say, as if I had been downstairs making scrambled eggs. Other times I’d knock and let myself in and find myself confronted with all the usual signs of an East-sider’s evening—images from the TV flashing across the wall in the living room, a record playing on the stereo in his bedroom, a half-empty 40oz-er of Stroh’s beside the bed, and in his case, a piece of typing paper in a half-cocked typewriter—but it would be as if he’d been kidnapped by drug lords, or had spontaneously combusted.
This is the only time I’ve ever really delved into a serious photo series. I used to shoot black and white film on a Minolta X-300, but that was for fun. The idea for this series came about after the housing bubble burst. People were desperate. I tried to call attention to this.
Enjoy the gallery. These prints are available in the Art for Sale section.
The days no longer really seem to have a beginning, middle and end. More like each day just feels like returning to interrupted, previously scheduled programming. I think any semblance of a regular schedule evaporated yesterday. Still can’t really be creative, but I did burn through Don DeLillo’s novel, White Noise. Truly a masterpiece of contemporary American fiction. The dude called it. And he could see why something like this was coming. I guess you have to be able to see the warning signs in order to predict the future. Otherwise, it’s just a guess. So now I’ve turned to reading The Plague, by Albert Camus, for the third or fourth time. I’m really bummed that I can’t get my hands on the new translation by Robin Buss. I’ve heard good things about it. If only I had a can of lilac-colored spray paint, I could get to work on that painting in the studio.
