It’s a lot easier to sit and type a blog post than it is to work on art. Funny, sometimes I think about going back to writing and forego art altogether. That probably sounds like I don’t like making art. Well, most of the time, I don’t. Surprised? Don’t be. All I do on my blog is complain about art and my health. It’s more relaxing to type.

I guess I’m not like a lot of artists who talk about how relaxing and joyous it is to create. I’ve always tried to chase that feeling, and have never fully experienced it. I feel joy and relaxation once it’s completed. And even more so, seeing a whole series of pieces I’ve worked long and hard on in a gallery setting. It’s like I’ve put a period on a good sentence in a final paragraph.

But then comes the opening reception, where a lot of people come to gather and experience the art. One day, I’d love to enjoy that particular moment. But it just pains me. I actually kinda hate it. Too much attention is paid to me, and not enough from me to others. I feel stress and guilt that I don’t have the time or attention span to talk to the people who came to support me. My brain is too dispersed. I’m afraid I seem ungrateful, aloof, rude, or just plain nervous. But that’s all it is. Nerves.

Today I framed two of the four watercolors for the show. I bought some cheap-ass frames off Amazon. They are plain and white. The paintings look pretty decent in them, but I sure wish I could have afforded excellent frames. I was given advice about framing recently—that artists should never spend a lot of framing because the buyer will inevitably change out the frame and throw it away. I’m not so sure that’s true. And it definitely isn’t always the case.

I am a stickler for framing my work on paper in high-quality, maple frames. It’s simple and elegant. If the paper has deckled edges, I’ll make sure it’s floated on a nice backing (without a mat). That’s how I prefer it to look. I also charge a lot extra for those works. If I knew (once it got sold) that the buyer tore it apart and reframed it, I’d be very sad about that. But so many times that I’ve displayed work unframed, the buyer asks me to have it framed exactly the way my usual work is framed. It’s been popular among my audience.

However, I don’t usually display unframed work on paper. It’s only been when I’ve installed pieces from The Journal Project. I pin those to the wall with little sewing pins, and that looks pretty good. I’ll be damned if I’m going to stick pin holes into a piece of Arches with deckled edges.

But none of that was why I sat down to write. I never know how these blog posts are going to turn out. I ramble on and on incessantly about things no one cares about. Why do I do that? I have no idea.

I think I was going to talk about being bald and working through my recovery, because that’s what I’ve done lately. I was trying to hurry up and finish the last watercolor because I’d planned on dropping both of the big ones off at my framer in Los Angeles. I need to go out there anyway to retrieve some paintings from Craig’s anyway. We were going to drive out there yesterday, but Hannah has been pretty damn sick with congestion and upper respiratory shit. She needs to sleep for another couple of days in order to heal. We’ll go next Saturday. Ironically, I’ll probably be able to drive myself by then. And there wasn’t any reason to work so many long hours to finish this last watercolor in time for the trip. I could have taken my time and given myself a break.

Anywho, here is the last one, called Beguiling for Dollars, and I also changed Judgy a little to blend that white triangle on his face that was bugging me.

So, my head’s been shaved three times since the surgery. The bald part still hasn’t caught up to the length of the rest of my hair. I originally got it cut super short right before the surgery and hated it. It looked similar to a flattop. Hannah helped me shave most of what was left. Then, we’ve shaved it twice since I’ve been home to try to even it out. They went in under my hairline in the front. I don’t look good, I’ll tell you that much. If the whole thing were a quarter inch all the way around, it would probably look kinda “good.” For now, I’ll let it grow, and maybe by the time my show comes around, I can get it styled. Hopefully, the hair around my giant scar will still grow normally. It might grow back funny. I’m not sure. Until then, I’ve been wearing a beanie anytime I leave the house.

I am now ahead of schedule for the rest of my work. I like being prepared, but this might be the most prepared I’ve ever been for a show. Doing the math, if each of the last few paintings takes me an average of five weeks, I’ll basically be finished in March. I wanted all the oil paintings to be done (and dry) by April, so that’s a pretty good plan in my book. I just have to make sure I don’t take advantage of the extra time and fuck off too much. I’m known to be a workaholic, but I can also get lazy.