One of THE best drummers of all time died today, He will be deeply missed. This is surely sad news.
Thoughts
Dad: May 31, 1927 – August 24, 2008
Maybe some of you are wondering where I’ve been, while some of you know about my father passing away a few weeks ago. So I’ve got nothing interesting, art-related, funny, compelling, or exciting to say on the blog right now. I can say, however, that my life has changed almost completely now that I have to take care of my mom (for the most part) and the fact that my brother and I were able to spend some intense time together with my dad in the weeks leading up to his death. We mended many wounds and bridges and I just feel lucky/blessed to have received that time, as most people are not so lucky. I know how lucky I am to be able to say goodbye and repair our conflicts and pain. Perhaps that kind of pain is easier to bear than the pain I’m feeling right now, but I would not trade fixing our differences for the world. That is all for now. Thanks for reading.
woa!
Did you feel that? Earthquakes are crazy. It was a 5.8.
40
Well the other day I turned 40, and boy do I feel old! Not really. I kid you. I do feel different though. I feel better. I feel better to leave those pesky 30s behind me. What good are they? Except for confusing the hell out of us. I think I was freaked out for the entire decade. Panic attacks, worry, redefining myself… Exhausting! Today I feel sick and tired of that shit and I just am happy to begin the best part of my life. 40 is da shit I tell you! 40 crushes the little girlyman 30s and ignorant, glib-ass 20s. Poop on you hot, fresh youngins with your perfect bodies and bluetooths – being handed prestigious solo shows fresh out of art school. Ya’ll aint got nuthin on me, I’m 40! Four-oh! And I can kick, streeetch aaand kick! I’m forty years old! (Okay, maybe I can’t kick so well, but I can almost touch my toes.)
The only thing I still have to schlep around with me from my 30s are these 30 extra pounds. What is with that? I know that some of the weight comes from medications I have to take, but why should my laziness and indulgences in ice cream be so punishing? I remember ingesting nothing but candy, peanut butter and cigarettes throughout my 20s and never gaining so much as an ounce. In fact, I think I lost weight. And in my 30s, the pounds came at me slowly but shirley. Fuckin’ Shirley. She’s such a see-you-next-tuesday.All of my 30s I lamented my wondrous smoking, thinking that was my ticket to skinny. I considered taking it up again, but alas I probably would have just been a fat smoker opposed to the smelly, musty waif I once was. Oh how youth is wasted on the moronic young.
Okay I think I’m done ranting and raving about my pot belly. I need to go to my Spanish lesson and get ready for a special visitor that’s flying in on a 6pm flight from St Paul.
That white painting I’m working on is coming along, but I haven’t had as much time to work on it as I would have liked. Here it is, more than 3/4 done with the painting. It will need about 45-60 hours of sewing — at least. The mini garment patterns are in Hebrew. It says Stop apologizing for who you are.
work and blabbering
Hola!
I’ve been buried in work and beyond. I started this painting a couple weeks ago after months of planning it out, on and off – scribbling in my little moleskin where I record my ideas and dreams. I don’t have it readily available as much as I need it. I’ve even thought about rigging it around my neck.
Attaching the bottom half (which is very thick, bumpy fabric) was the hardest part. And I went through more than a gallon of gesso and white paint to start getting it white. Fabric sure likes to suck up water based paint, so I had to change it up after a while and use layers of polymer and then enamel. Once it finally dried in the sun I started layering it with white oil paint. The people at Dick Blick thought I was a nut, since I kept going in there to buy tubes of white. Luckily, only the top layers are the 30 dollar tubes, or else this painting would have put me a lot more in debt.
So the underpainting is done and I’m just starting the fun parts on the top half, bringing out the cartoons and garment patterns that form Hebrew writing, neither which you can really see in this god-awful photo. The Hebrew says Stop apologizing for who you are, an affirmation I’ve been using a lot lately. I’m also putting bits of my Great grandmother with a tree growing out of her head, and my mother getting electric shock treatments. But I want the overall composition to feel tranquil and cozy in a freezing, arctic tundra kinda way.
Oh, so speaking of debt, I just put an unmentionable amount of money into fixing my car. It was cheaper than buying a new car, but enough to buy a certain kind of car. But I love my little CRV, and it needed new struts, arm bushings, a radiator and some pump that works with it, a wheel alignment, and a little bit of this and that besides. I was without car for a couple days, and picking it up and paying for it depressed me for another couple of days. But that’s life.
When I picked it up, MJP and I went to Joshua Tree again. I know that sounds crazy in this heat, but we went very very early in the morning, and as usual, it was gorgeous, peaceful and quiet.
The $2 Bill Show at the I5 gallery at the brewery was nice. Lots of really great work. My favorites were mjp‘s, Leigh Salgado‘s, Yaya Chou, and Reuben Sorenson‘s – who painted on both sides f the bill. It was a great show. I hope Mat Gleason does it again and perhaps make sure that no one signed the front and make people buy the work without knowing what they get, like SMMoA’s Incognito‘s events.
I have to make more coffee. I’m falling asleep typing this. It must be damn boring to read if I’m bored typing it.
More later. Addios, y hasta pronto. (Yes, I am finally learning how to speak Spanish.)