So this week is nuts. Mochi is sick and I’m tired. We dropped her off at the vet because she has kidney problems. We should get her back home tonight or tomorrow.
Sorry this post is late. My site has been giving me troubles.
So when I was a kid, I studied under a professor named Charles Rogers. He was a college art professor and I was like 13. My mom had dated him for a trip of the time and he and I he just gotta become like a family friend. So he still let me just kind of play in his studio and then he come in and like give me like pointers and tips and show me how to like. Let me sit with him at markets and do all types of stuff like that, so I was kind of exposed to the business before I was probably officially in the business. He had this like interesting thing about him where he was like. Do you feel like it’s done come back to it in about 20 minutes and then see what else you can do. He was unflappable about this and I remember being impressed but also like annoyed that I was never done with a painting. He was probably one of my first heroes. He had all these art books and science projects of potatoes and jars. To this day I still dream about his stucco house that he lived in next to the airport.. He was my first example of a living artist..
His house looks something like this. It was like a mixture of a illustration and a real house.
I think if I had ever had any questions about whether I wanted to be a real artist at that point always confirmed.
And since then, I’ve never looked back. I’ve known I wanted to be an artist since I was four and 40 years after that I’m still doing it.
His work could be described, kind of a mixture of futurism and cubism a little bit, but mostly just kind of futurism. He painted these like African sculptures and occasionally people, and he used to stretch his canvases and make his own frames. He is really kind of amazing..
Such a long two days. I don’t know why it felt so heavy. Maybe I flew high above the clouds into the sun? Either way, it’s over, and I can rest up a bit. I have so many plans this week.
I wish to cut a lot of sheets of paper for my backstock. I have a huge roll I cut them from. It feels better cutting my own sizes, but also it’s so very much cheaper. I’m trying to focus on making my life easier for myself this year. Not always waiting until the moment and just acting. The blackholes seem to be strinking in my path.
Each week, I just want to connect with all of you. An alligator sitting in a coin pond, smiling at the wishers making wishes.
Breast curves of dreams left in ash trays. Pencil cuttings from left over inspiration of legacy. I am but the hope of old generations snacking on disagreements. The led is synthesized to be dark and smoky. Better taste for capitalism but less filling.
The toe box of the studio is no longer vast or tight fitting. The silent parts are ment to be sexy but can no longer hold its own weight. Be yet the teeth and not the tongue and taste of us and our endless hungers. Scars and rubber bands holding the peace together.
If I were to bet on me for four more decades I would give you my dreams as collateral.
The desk is covered in half thought up plans, cough drops, clickers, harmonica from being 13 in human boy form, rolling papers and toy soldiers in a band I’m yet to imagine on page. These are my true currency.
Dreaming of smells from smaller mammals.
And yet I roll, I roll and nothing but dust are my new tattoos of the ink tribe. A king of an empty kingdom of returns from sanctuary sanity.
To be and do and sleep others dreams layered in like sandwiches. Run little boy run and tell them “we had cake when we were young.”
They are fun to see how my art used to be. I still paint the same but I wasn’t able to spend money on great materials back then. I did a lot with a little. I hope you enjoy.
Sometimes I like to walk it back and see how I used to do things.
I went on a little gallery adventure in dc. It was huge, much bigger than any show I have ever done. My friend had a spot so I went to show support. It was amazing. I felt comfortable this time in Dc alone. The metro always freaks me out a little. I don’t really know why.
I hope you had a nice weekend. It was a learning experience for me. I didn’t know how I was in pain witnessing ICE in DC. I have felt for sometime that we were under attack from the government. It honestly hurts worrying about my West Indian family and friends. I walked with Alec to my favorite Rotti shop and it was gone. They moved away in the middle of the night. My heart was broken. I had been to that shop most of my life with my dad. A great loss exists where that taste lives and all the carnival stories converged.