Times Square and New Year's Eve

Place a message on a bit of confetti for New Year's Eve in Times Square....

http://www.zoomerang.com/recipient/survey.zgi?p=WEB227AC5GHEXV

Clinton leads in Iowa

This is a nice way for me to start the day...
According to the latest Reuters/C-Span/Zogby poll released today, Clinton is in the lead. You can read more about it by following the link here.

Clinton leads in Iowa

Early Spring?

Oddly enough, it's a balmy 58 degrees with rain and thunder here at the Delaware shore this morning. Of course, that's not the norm for December 29th.

I make no secret of the fact that I am a huge Hillary fan...



I don't know how much more of this buffoon



the country or the world can take.

The main reason that I'm not supporting Obama is his real lack of experience which he, and the media frankly, keep trying to downplay. It's important right now. Extremely important.

Now, this may be a weak analogy, but here goes anyway. Say I were to go away for a couple of weeks, and I had to choose between two people to watch my home and tend to my cats while I was away. Basically, I'm handing over power of my little world to someone temporarily and I have to be able to TRUST them to make the right decisions about my home while I'm away.

One potential house sitter has had quite a bit of EXPERIENCE house sitting and taking care of other people's pets. They're more mature with a no-nonsense attitude and have a long track record of house sitting and house sitting well. The other potential sitter has very little or no experience house sitting. He is a good speaker and certainly charismatic, but he keeps insisting that what I need is a change of the "old" ways. When I ask him about experience, he simply keeps stating that I should trust him to do the best job, simply because he has a fresh approach, or so he says, at house sitting. He wants me to simply trust in this fresh approach and not ask too many questions.

In fact, when I start to show a bit of indecision, rather than speak to me more about problem solving and practical experience as the first potential house sitter does, he informs me in a passive aggressive manner that if I don't choose him that I will never have another opportunity to do so, because if I don't pick him now, he will never make himself available to house sit for me again. Ever.
(Click here to read what I'm referring to)

Now, I don't know about you, but that last comment by the potential house sitter would have been viewed as childish and immature. Guess who I'm going to pick to house sit? Now what if the house that were speaking about is the White House and we're speaking about the next 4 to 8 years? And what if you were handing over control of such house with a massive sever storm brewing outside? Hmmmm...

Maybe it's not such a bad analogy after all.

Tee Hee

Winter humor...

At least I'm staying busy in the studio...

I have never been as out of the Christmas spirit as I have been this year. Ever. The economy is so miserable, despite what the Idiot In Chief says,



that we have decided not to celebrate the holiday this year. No tree, no lights, no gifts. Nothing. I'm OK with that. Of course, everyone will say that the holiday isn't about gifts. But, frankly, that's mostly bullshit. It's totally about giving and getting gifts. It's massive consumerism. If I hear one more person ask me if "I've got all my shopping done yet" I may go running and screaming into the path of the next bus. Ask yourself how many times you've been asked that, have asked that yourself, or have overheard others asking that question and then tell yourself that Xmas (at least here in the States) isn't about consumerism.

A recent friend of mine,who happens to be a wonderful artist, made a brilliant table top sculpture work that she showed me the other day. It consisted of Santa Claus being crucified on a cross. It was amazingly realistic. She told me that it was a statement about the consumerism of Christmas and I thought it was brilliant.

Of course, I no longer consider myself to be a Christian , so the whole religious aspect isn't there for me in any case at this time of year. But, I was raised a Catholic, so I do appreciate the beauty of the story of Xmas in an artistic sense at least.

What I do enjoy however are the lights. For the last few years I've considered myself a spiritualist who celebrates the "season of light". You don't need gifts for that. And also, it isn't about me getting gifts, it's about me being able to give them. Which, this year I can not. That's what sucks for me on a personal level because I love picking out special things for special people. Since I can't give gifts this year, I don't want anyone to give any to me.

So, what have I been doing rather than shopping and throwing money at a tree? I've been painting! That I love year round. And who knows, maybe someone will actually buy one or two of my works before the holiday which may tempt me to put up a light or two.

Here are my last two works. By the way, these are an AMAZING bargain at $350 each. But, desperate times you know....


"Unchanged"
acrylic, faux-finished color fields, ephemeral and vintage photographic mixed-media collage on canvas.
6" x 12"
2007
© Michael Sprouse


"What Kind of Star?"
acrylic, faux-finished color fields, ephemeral and vintage photographic mixed-media collage on canvas.
6" x 12"
2007
© Michael Sprouse

Is Traditional Painting Dead?

So, I've been up since about 5:15 AM. Frankly, that isn't unusual for me. But it didn't help my morning to run across this little article online. Check out the ( in my opinion) CRAP that was chosen for this "MYARTSPACE NEW YORK, NEW YORK 2007 COMPETITION" by clicking here... http://www.myartspace.com/contestresults/nyny07/

Now, let me get the record straight here - I didn't enter the competition, so this isn't a question of bitter grapes. This is, in my opinion, a case of "the emperor's not wearing any clothes". It never ceases to amaze me how many no talents there are out there that consider themselves to be "artists" simply because they love calling themselves that and are smitten with the "idea" of being an artist ( I've met countless numbers of them). Plus, the fact that there is always a cadre of artistically brain dead, overtly intellectualized, smug "in the know" cultural elitist ready to proclaim anything art (and purchase such) in order to keep this puerile movement afloat blows my mind!

You know, I've always found that the more you have to convince someone that something is something other than what it appears to be upon initial review, the more you need to re-examine it yourself (if it walks like a duck...).

Enough already!

Fading Monday....

It's the end of a rather long and uneventful Monday. Well, perhaps not uneventful, just not as enjoyable as the previous weekend. I'll have quite a bit to fill up this week however with meetings and studio work. Here's the last work that I finished this afternoon. It's titled "What Kind of Star"


"What Kind Of Star"
acrylic, faux-finished color fields, ephemeral and vintage photographic mixed-media collage on canvas.
6" x 12"
2007
© Michael Sprouse


So, the day wasn't unproductive by any means. But, by the time I drove the little over 2 hour drive in from the beach this AM, I just seemed a bit out of it - somewhat behind the schedule a bit. Though, the only schedule that I use is one of my own being that I am self-employed. It did seem though that by the time I made and took part in the phone calls that were on my list, read and send the emails, run errands in, around, and away from the house, the day had passed like morning fog.

In any event, perhaps I'll find the time to finish my new work that I started this afternoon after finishing the one above.

In Memorium: Dan Fogelberg

I was a huge fan of his music in the 70's and 80's and was just singing a song of his when I was working in the studio the other day. His songs and voice were so touching and heart felt. Many of them held, and still do, a very special inner-personal meaning for me. That will change somehow, I think, now that he is no longer of this plane. I had no idea that he was ill so this came as quite a surprise to me as I'm sure it will to others. A true loss on many levels...


In Memorium:
Dan Fogelberg
August 31, 1951 - December 16, 2007

Ugh...can one get by on 4 hours of sleep...

I just got my internet access back after not having such since last Sunday morning. I've also have been sleeping for only about 4 to 5 hours a night for the last week or so. Who says hallucinations can't be fun?!
At least I have been a very busy boy in the studio....



Recently completed work incorporating, acrylic paint, faux-finished color fields, ephemeral and vintage photographic mixed-media collage on canvas. Click on image until large version appears for detail.
"Pleasant Doors"
6" x 12"
2007
© Michael Sprouse

Hey, as of last week, you can now find my original works at this very hip place in Philadelphia...
Philadelphia Home Art Garden aka P.H.A.G.

Friday morning trash trucks

One of my favorite ways to be awakened on an icy early winter Friday morning is by the sounds of the giant foul smelling trash trucks rumbling up your street at 6:00 AM. This lovely sensation is only heightened by the sudden barren realization that you forgot to place your trash and recyclables by the curb the previous evening before going out with your friends to share many bottles of wine over dinner. It's fun to fling yourself out of a warm cozy bed with a fuzzy, wine colored, brain in the pre-dawn dark desperately grabbing at whatever warm things happen to be within hands reach as you try to side step the screeching cats in order to make your way out into the frostbitten morning so as to drag a behemouth of a garbage scented trash can to the curb.

At least I now get to drive with my friend Jerry to the beach so as to be able to perform in my friend's Improv Murder Mystery Troupe tonight. Right now, I'm dreading it, but the money is good. Perhaps I just need to re-adjust my attitude about the whole thing.



Ciao for now,
M

Still staying busy...

For now, at least, even quick, little posts must be better than none. Here's a new work that I completed yesterday...



And here is something totally tasteless, yet dripping with wonderful sarcastic and caustic British humour.

Busy paint boy...

Whew, I am a busy paint boy today. In fact, I have been a busy paint boy ever since arriving back from Italy. I don't have the time I want now to place a decent post here this morning as I am leaving in an hour for a job which will be followed up at 12:30 with a meeting with an interior designer who wants me to work on 2 murals. Not to mention my other artistic commissions and projects. But, I'm happy as a clam about all of it, and as my dear departed mother always used to say, "it's better than digging a ditch".

Here's one of my latest works (not the latest however as I haven't photographed that one yet).



"Young Folks"
6" x 12"
acrylic with vintage ephemeral &
photographic collage
2007
©Michael Sprouse

Back with a powerful video...

I've been a very busy boy to say the least...
Italy was phenomenal.
Thanksgiving was lovely.
And Henry Rollins is awe inspiring...

Off to Italy

I'm flying off to Rome today...how exciting!!

New season, new hairstyle

Hasn't it been a zillion days since my last visit here? Well, it's of little consequence. I find that the majority of visits here are from folks looking for images anyway. I've had an amazing last 18ish days since my last post. I can't, or won't, spend time documenting it all here, but it's been thought provoking to say the least. With that said, I'm off to Italy on Thursday and won't be back for about 2 weeks. How exciting. It's possible that I may be able to update this blog during my trip. If it is, well, then you'll know that I was able to do so. Here is a photo taken today. It's a new season, and I have a new hairstyle to go along with it. Enjoy.

In Memoriam...

In Memoriam...
Luciano Pavarotti
October 12, 1935 – September 6, 2007

Thus ends the holiday weeekend

Ah...the end of another Labor Day weekend as the sun rises on Tuesday morning. We spent the weekend entertaining one of our dearest friends (whom we affectionately call "doll-lips " most of the time - though the debate as to who first created the nickname - George or myself - rages on.) I will refer to her here as DL. Dl brought her new beau with her to the beach for George and I to meet for the first time. We all hit it off easily and had a great time.

Of course, we spent the weekend overindulging in food and drink - but we had a blast doing it. The weather was pristine (and it still is). This works out well for my ride back to NJ in a couple of hours. I'll hit the ground running there as I have one of my dearest friends coming to visit on Thursday morning for a long weekend and I have much to do between now and then. Amazingly, he and I have been friends for over 35 years. His wonderful and beautiful mother died earlier this year. She and I were close and he is brining a portion of her ashes for us to sprinkle into the ocean together.

I finally was able to watch "Pan's Labyrinth" last night with George and was mesmerized. In fact, it ended up being a weekend of "finally was able tos" or close to it, for myself. We were "finally able to" meet DL's new beau. I was finally able to finish reading the biography of Katherine Hepburn that I purchased and wrote about here almost a year ago ( you should read the book only if you are interested in the deconstruction and demythification of the classic Hepburn story). I took a bike ride with George and finally made it to the top of the great dune ( not having done so before not because of the ride but because we had never taken that route) where there is a spectacular view of the ocean. It's the largest and highest dune between Cape Cod and Lake Hatteras.


( you can see it here to the left in this wee photo)

I also waxed my car Monday afternoon. I enjoyed the process and it occurred to me while I was doing it that I haven't waxed a car for about 20 something years. I always find it worth pondering when thoughts like that arise. You're doing something benign like helping your brother to wax your father's car in the summer of 1983 and you forget about it until the next time you find yourself engaged in that action and it's 24 years later. It's a different time and place true, and space for that matter - but you're mentally brought back in time briefly. It's as if you have one foot in the past and one in the present. Fascinating.



By the way - Pan's Labyrinth is truly an amazing and beautiful film.

Now - I'm still waking up so I'm moving back to my coffee. More later.

Welcome back....

( Oh man... does anyone over the age of 30 even know what this photo is from? For that matter, does anyone over the age of 30 not know? BTW, I was addicted to this show between the ages of 10 and 12 - but then came 1978 and the rest is history...)

20 days since my last entry?! Well, as I have stated before, things slow down on some level in August. But, now August itself is passing and I feel my blogging sensibilities reawakening.

I’ve actually had a rather full past 20 days - I had a very successful solo exhibit at the Chasen gallery in Richmond (a town for which I have grow rather fond - especially after the lovely weekend I had there), made some connections with some new potential galleries closer to home, made a visit to DC for a friend’s birthday, made several new friends and acquaintances, updated the website for the style magazine that I co-publish, finished reading 2 books, began teaching myself conversational Italian due to an upcoming trip to Tuscany, started and have almost finished a portrait commission. I could go on and on.

So, you see, it’s not as if I have been sitting around for the last 20 days staring into empty-eyed into the flickering blue haze of a television screen smashing Fritos into my drooling mouth like a semi-comatose zombie.

Now, since I have brought up the subject of smashing food into one’s mouth, once again I witnessed at the grocery store yesterday when I was in the checkout line the ugly trio of ignorance paired with low-self esteem and their ugly offspring - obesity. A mother and her two daughters ( I’ll guess them to be between the ages of 8 and 11) were directly in front of me checking out. They were all huge. And of course, what food items were rolling down the lane but ChocoCrap Cereal, Heavenly HoHos, Sugar Coated Lard on a Stic, you get the picture.

I saw the obese mother toss a quick glance at the healthy food stuffs that I was placing on the belt with a look that seemed to be a mixture of disgust, envy, embarrassment and hopelessness. In the instant that I noticed her super-quick glance and expression (one thing that I have mastered over my 30 years of drawing and studying faces is the multitude and subtleties of emotions that and expressions that people - often unconsciously - exhibit on their faces - basically I can read most faces like a book), I noticed her noticing me noticing her. Confused yet? She quickly turned her attention to her daughters and made some silly comment about not squashing the bread or something like that.



How is it that this is still going on in this country? Frankly. I’m sick of the excuses that most people use. The message that I would have liked to have given that woman would be to get your act together and think about what you are doing to your children. If you want to be an obese slob, so be it. But your kids? Do you really want them to grow up feeling the way that you must feel about yourself on the inside? You KNOW that what you’re feeding them is crap. And contrary to popular opinion, expensive crap at that. If you don’t believe me. the next time you’re in the market, compare the prices between a box of CinnaCocoa Cardio-Arrest Puffs to that of a box of old fashioned oat meal (not the bullshit, sugar laden, “flavored” instant kind). The Oat Meal is a powerhouse breakfast food and it takes only 5 minutes to prepare in the microwave. Toss on some blueberries, honey and cinnamon, and your kids will devour it and you will be amazed at how healthy it is for you.

Here's a story that just ran yesterday about how in the last year alone, obesity rates have risen in this country!

OK, now I can step off of my soap box ( or high horse, I’m sure, to some of you readers) and get on with my day - meaning I’m about to go on my 4 mile power walk which I will follow up with a wonderful breakfast of oatmeal and fruit. Just don’t ask me about my plans to meet friends for happy hour and free appetizers later on today...

Birds Of A Feather...

Yesterday, after my grueling 4 mile power walk in pea soup thick 95 degree humidity, I decided that I needed to make a quick run to the grocery store for a few items. I shower, throw on some clothing appropriate for wearing in “surface of the sun” temperatures, hop into my beetle convertible and head for one of the local supermarkets.

The icy temperature inside was wonderfully refreshing and I found myself drifting through the produce section casually filling my cart with a variety of different vegetables while enjoying the super powered air conditioning. It was then my little observation which is the subject of this posting occurred. I only preface it in such a way because I think that there is every possibility that some readers my find my posting as non-politicaly correct. Hence, I want to apologize in advance for any possible offense, yet at the same time, I have no intention about changing my mind about my observation. You can decide and feel free to comment about it if you wish.

Now, back to my story. I’m lazing about the produce section when I overhear a woman’s voice mixing with that of some children discussing a shopping list. I happen to glance over in their direction as people often do in grocery stores and thus began my observation. The woman was probably in her early to mid-thirties, dark blonde, tan and extremely overweight. In fact, I would call her obese. There were two little boys with her. I’m guessing that they were brothers as they were dressed in similarly and had matching sunglasses. One was probably about 10ish and the other 8ish.

They were well behaved, normal little boys and interestingly enough, they were not overweight at all. Now, what was memorable about the kids is that they were approaching the cart with their arms filled with packages from the other isles. The youngest had his arms filled with boxes of twinkies, HoHos, cupcakes and the like. The older of the two had his arms filled with giant boxes of Fruit Loops and Crunch Berry cereals. I remember thinking suddenly that the mother was going to say something like “put that stuff back” or something to that effect. I mean, I seen kids try to place sugary crap in their mother’s carts hundreds of time and I know for a fact that I tried to do the same when I was a kid in cahoots with my siblings.



What I wasn’t expecting was the mother to act as if such behavior was normal. In fact, she asked them to make sure that they had the “flavors” that they wanted. Again, all of them were well behaved and pleasant acting. Now, it is possible that this woman could be anyone to these kids. She may have been their baby sitter, a cousin or older sister. Or, they may have been purchasing food for a camp out or a birthday party for all I know. But, for some reason it didn’t seem like that to me. It seemed, instinctively, like an obese mother allowing her kids to jump on the highway to obesity with her.


A few isles later, we ended up the same isle once more and their cart contained even more crap. Frankly, I’m sick of it. If an adult wants to stuff their body, for whatever self-loathing reasons, with processed garbage and become obese - that’s their business. But to help your children to do the same thing is simply wrong and, in my opinion, possibly abusive. I can’t imagine that in this day and age that there is any parent, particularly obese parents, who don’t know that allowing their child to eat the same copious amounts of crap that they consumed is wrong! Why not but them a pack of cigarettes and hand them the keys to your car after offering them a few stiff shots while you’re at it? I just don’t understand it.

The Inevitability of the Passing of Time

It’s almost 6:30 AM on Wednesday, August 8, 2007. There’s a light, yet steady, rain falling complete with cloud cover that has colored the morning with a much darker light than what is usually found at this early time of the day. Undeniably however, the sun has quietly begun rising seconds later each morning, now it seems, and, thus, setting seconds earlier. This can only mean one thing - the same thing it means every year - the arrival of Autumn in the air. I can sense its inevitable approach. It’s delivery announcement is proclaimed in every prematurely fallen brown and brittle leaf that occasionally spins about my ankles in a crinkly wind dance during my daily power walk through the park. Summer is slowly evaporating like a bar of amber colored glycerin hand soap. I pick it up, use it, and carry its crisp scent on my hands and even though it never seems to change its shape, every morning, there is less and less of it for my enjoyment.

The other morning, I awoke in a slight panic from that very thought. Though it was nothing other than the fading ember of a forgotten dream, the first thought that clarified in my mind as I bolted up from my pillow was that August was suddenly here and that meant that the death-knoll for Summer had begun. I could hear Autumn’s foot steps scampering across the antique wooden floor of my front porch looking for a place to disappear like an over excited child in a game of hide and seek. Though it was hidden, I knew it was there, somewhere, trying not to giggle and waiting to be discovered.

Once I accepted the onset of the season, I was content again. I have always been an adoring fan of Autumn and all of its golden splendor usually proclaiming October as my favorite month of the year. Besides, I would be fooling myself to pretend that the seasons are actually arriving quicker than before. It’s only that I don’t have as many new days ahead of me as I did 20 years ago. The psyche makes that realization deep within yet tries to mask it with rationalization about how quickly time passes. If you’re my age, or older, ask a child, a teen or someone in their early 20’s how quickly time passes for them, and you’ll know from their answer - even if they lie to you - that they can’t really relate to your ever increasing sense of the sand speeding through the hourglass. How could they? Why would they want to? It’s inevitable, cyclic, entropic, and natural.

A very close friend of mine, who is about 15 years older than I, once described to me in analogy how she felt about her perception of the ever increasing speed of the passing of time. “Imagine yourself in a little row boat on a river somewhere,” she said. “When you’re a child and up into your early twenties, you can sit in the boat all day with no current to move you at all just laughing and splashing water with your friends. But as you get older, you start to notice a slight current which grows stronger and faster with each passing year."

I believe she likened her current boat ride to that of approaching white water. My speed is a bit different, not quite as fast yet. Though, make no mistake, I can feel the current now. When I place my hand in the water, I feel it moving steadily through my fingers and I can watch the fallen leaves smoothly glide by me. And though I am able to catch most of them in my fingers, a few now are able to get past me...

Summer Hiatus...

Wow. 10 Days since my last entry. It seems as if that much time hasn’t passed in reality, yet nevertheless it has. I have been hosting my sister and her family for several days now. And even though we are having a lovely time, I haven’t had much time to devote to the blog. Though, my schedule will return to "normal", whatever that may be, in a couple of days. In the interim, here's a television commercial being run by the Chasen Galleries where I will be having an opening next Friday (August 10) in Richmond, Virginia.

S.P.T. w/ hat

Oh man am I busy this week. And after such a lovely weekend too. I'll go into detail on that and other things perhaps later today when my schedule allows. Until then, it's Self-Portrait Tuesday.



I'm wearing my hat as it is the only hat that I can find to wear in the garden to water my withering plants while keeping off the harmful rays of the sun. Of course, my face is lathered in sunscreen much to the chagrin of my pores. Alas.

Right Wing Hypocrisy

More right wing hypocrisy...

http://www.queerty.com/sex/rep-allen-arrested-for-gay-solicitation-20070712/

Friday the 13th

Hey - It’s Friday the 13. I just made that realization moments ago. I have never had much of a problem with this particularly numbered day. Though, just 10 minutes ago as I stumbled groggily through the kitchen in an attempt to prepare my morning coffee, I placed my bare foot squarely in the middle of a warm puddle of cat vomit (complete with stomach churning sticky phlegm saturated hair balls) lovingly left by one of the two feline varmints that I allow to share my living space.



Could that be a “Friday the 13th” phenomenon? No, I think that was just bad timing - or very good cat positioning - depending on your point of view.

It is Friday - in any event - and I have had a very full week. I’ve had some very good studio days, was able to catch up on some digital design work, and I was able to share some very enjoyable social time with close friends. I watched Michael Moore’s “Sicko” during the week and loved it.

Though it was preaching to the choir, the truthful documentary (the facts are out there - and easily verifiable - regardless of what the corporate whores and right-wing lovin’ “infotainers” are saying)



a complete roller coaster of emotion from humor to sadness, empathy, and disgust.

I have never lived through a time in this country when I felt that those in charge were so thoroughly corrupt and spiritually filthy as those at the helm now. How many people will it take to realize that the emperor is wearing nothing at all? How much more damage to the national psyche must be tolerated at the hands of these greedy, small thinking, patrician, self-important, corrupt, hypocritical, bitter freaks in the White House?

I really believe now that they TRULY DON'T CARE about anyone that isn't a member of their economic class, their religion, their skin color, their sexual orientation, their ethnic background. It's important to notice that I have "economic class" listed as first and foremost because money really and truly is their God and they will do anything at any expense to get it and keep it. ANYTHING. It doesn't matter what gets destroyed (whether it's a small country, or a hurricane ravished American City, or our wildlife and nature preserves, or our Bill Of Rights, or thousands upon thousands of lives) as long as the final outcome is money and power. If you think that this isn't true, then you have drunk their Kool-Aide and you are truly delusional.

HOT HOT HOT

Hey - It's Self-Portrait Tuesday...



It’s also hotter than the surfaces of a thousand suns outside here in the Garden State. According to accuweather.com, it’s 92 degrees with an air temperature of 108! That would explain why I saw tumbleweeds, iguanas, and sun bleached cow skulls in my front yard this morning as I went on my power walk. The power walk which turned out to be a grueling “I don’t think I can make it” trek across the desert otherwise known as the local park.

I am like a delicate flower in the sun I’m afraid. In fact, this afternoon an eager honey bee decided to visit the locks of my golden hair. I didn’t notice until I heard that spine chilling drone of buzzing wings ever so close to my ear.



I could sense the angry bee's frustration and I expected it to deeply plant its painful stinger into my innocent scalp at any moment. Surely, the bee mistook me for a giant sun flower of some sort. In any event, my fear driven quick and spasmodic interruptive dance of running my fingers back and forth at the speed of light through my short summer buzz quickly freed both the intruder and myself from misfortune.

The only time that I have been stung by a bee was when I was a child. It was during the the height of Summer in my home town in Kentucky. Naturally I was barefoot. I saw the bee serenely circumnavigating the head of a clover gently gathering pollen. I remember having one of those very silly thoughts that only experimental children have which was, "I wonder if if step on Mr. Bee if it would sting me". I did and it did. Lesson learned. On day, I'll write about the time I had another silly childhood thought involving a plastic garment bag and the threat of suffocation.

JM an OD in the WC?

I, not unlike zillions of other people, have my favorite Doors tunes deeply ingrained into my psyche ( L.A. Woman, People Are Strange, Love Me Two Times) and also not unlike multitudes of fans, have been to his grave in Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris so this little news item hit my radar as mildly interesting.

It seems that after 30 something long years, the manager from a nightclub frequented by Jim Morrison is releasing his account of how the infamous party boy actually died from a heroin overdose in one of the club's bathroom stalls rather than quietly in his tub.



You can read the details here...

The shocking truth about how my pal Jim Morrison REALLY died

When you think it's morning...but it's not

It’s 2:30 AM on the dot. I’ve been up since 2:00. Is it restlessness? Insomnia? Sleep boredom? I don’t know and at this moment don’t care - it doesn't change the fact that I am awake when I should be asleep.



What was I dreaming? It’s too fuzzy being either too close or too distant, or both, simultaneously. The night before last, I dreamt that I was wining an Academy Award for best supporting actor. The crowd went wild during my acceptance speech.



There were a few problems. Not only was I unsure as to what performance I was winning for, I was accepting the prize wearing work-out shorts, running shoes and a t-shirt. It didn't help my confusion that both the Academy and the media seemed only to know my name as "Mykhal Sprice". I guarantee you that if I were ever to choose a stage name - that would not be it. It sounds much too much like an Hindi translation for cheap men’s cologne.



I am going to try to slide back into bed. Wish me luck.

Self-Portrait Tuesday

It's July 3, 2007 and it's Self-Portrait Tuesday...



I've nto taken part in SPT for what seems to be quite some time. But I find myself on a different time continuum in the Summer ( like many folks) so, adhering to regiment is something easily slipped by the wayside.

It's a little after 8 AM as of this moment ( 8:14 to be exact) and I have already been to the beach to look for sea glass and on my morning speed walk.



I t was with great interest that I read about Bush's decision to "commute" Libby's sentence. Initially, I was disgusted and furious about the news. But then, I realized that for each of the moronic, self-serving decisions made by the buffoon and his administration, the closer we get to a Democratic President! So, feel free to make more insipidly stupid decisions. Full steam ahead! Or perhaps I should state - Fool Steam ahead...

Wonderful weekend...

What a truly lovely weekend I have had. The trip to DC was wonderfully successful on several levels. We had a great time enjoying the company of L. and D. and the photo shoot went very well for the digital portrait went very well. Though, after taking the photos (which were of L. posing in her hat collection - a fabulous collection that she had created over many years, each with special meaning), I mentioned the idea of self-publishing a coffee table book of the images along with the individual story of each hat. She and D. loved the idea. So as of now, the initial idea of creating a digital portrait has evolved into the creation of a coffee table book which I will design and which will incorporate my digital photographs of Lynn wearing select hats from her collection accompanied by a bit of descriptive prose for each image.

After the photo shoot, we enjoyed a scrumptious dinner accented with lots of cocktails much laughter.

George and I awoke very early Sunday morning and had coffee with the sunrise on the patio which overlooks L’s massive and beautiful backyard bordered by her stunning gardens. The air was crystalline and cool with absolutely clear azure skies above. We were amazed that such a morning could occur on July 1st ( it was actually a bit chilly), but there it was nevertheless. It became one of those sensations where you realized that what you were experiencing weather-wise was a short lived special treat that would more than likely not reappear again until the middle of Autumn at the earliest. We sat silently with our warm cups of coffee (the aroma of which had mingled with the sweetened scents of countless different flowers that had gently wafted into the crisp early morning breeze) and listened to the sounds of the waking day.

After L & D woke we enjoyed a casual breakfast before returning to the Delaware shore. During the ride, I finished reading this -



This was a real “hard to put down” page-turner for me. Of course, I’m a history buff and after having lived for so many years in DC, I was always quite compelled by the Lincoln assassination. Our gallery was also only a couple of blocks from the Ford’s theater as well as Mary Surrat’s boarding house. It’s really a fascinating, and true, read.

Right about the time that I was finished, we were pulling into Elmer’s Produce outside of Bridgeville, Delaware.



Elmer's has been there for countless years and they offer massive amounts of fresh, local produce, plants and more. It's one of our favorite stops along the way...



The other thing that they offer, as stated in their sign seen in the image above, is a “gift shop”. It is also very large and offers a huge amount of “intriguing” things, that some, may indeed, consider worthy of gift giving. Here’s one in particular that stood out.



It was a painted ceramic creation that featured 3 different yet extremely similar figures of Jesus sitting together on a throne. I believe it was called the trinity or something to that effect. The first words that came into my mind when I saw the works was, “Will the real Jesus please stand up?”



I also must admit how taken aback I was when I realized that the one Jesus figure with the dove bore an uncanny resemblance to a neo-hippy friend of mine from the way back machine whom turned me onto many new things - ahem, and I - he.

I also couldn’t get over how the large yellow adornments over the three amigos heads so strongly looked like these peculiar pieces of headgear popular amongst Green Bay Packer fans...



Perhaps the ceramic trio would make the perfect gift for any devout Christian who also happens to be a Green Bay Packer fan.

Happy Birthday David

Sat - June 30, 2007
Howdy! I’ve been away for a few days but I have been quite busy - plus - of course, it IS summer, which tends to pull anyone away from such things as blogging.
In any event, before I depart for an overnight visit to DC ( where I have been commissioned by close friends to create a large-scale digital portrait - I’ll be taking the photos today), I wanted to wish my OLDER brother Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday David.

Hey - here’s a photo taken in Boston the year that my brother was born (appropriate since we were born in Massachusetts).



Tsk, Tsk, look how OLD this photo seems. Look at the big OLD truck and the signs.

This is probably a typical look for nurses in the hospital the same year ...



Aren't those glasses considered "vintage" now?

All of this in fun of course. Actually, he's only a bit shy of two years older than I. More like 1 year and 11 months. So, "I ain't no Spring Chicken" either - though I was born in the Spring.



So - on that note, I'll simply say Happy Birthday David.

Tuesday, Tuesday

It’s Tuesday, June 26, 2007. The clock on my computer reads 1:44. I’ve walked to a local coffee shop, despite the punishing heat and humidity. It’s where I sit at this very moment by a window which offers an unobstructed view of car repair shop. It seems as if every available space in the lot is taken up with some sort of auto in need of repair. The light is glaring, white, and hazy. It makes the heat seem that much more oppressive.
I can’t seem to get it together today which is why I’m at this coffee shop to begin with. I don’t often come here, though it’s pleasant enough and only a short walk from my home. I needed a change of environment no matter how subtle or close by. So I choose this coffee shop with it’s bare pine wood floor, over priced lattes, and barely functioning air conditioner. As I wrote that last line, a somewhat frumpy fellow in line dropped a fistful of change all over the floor behind me. I could watch him slowly and silently pick up the coins out of the corner of my eye as I was typing.
I don’t know why I’m in this funk. Or perhaps I do, but I have chosen to ignore it. Or perhaps compartmentalize it. I would place it in the “things I am aware of but can really do nothing about at the present moment” compartment. I could then start looking for sub-catagories in that file, such as, “temporary malaise”, “general feeling of discontent”, “lingering yet temporary ennui tinged with disillusionment”. Nothing that I haven’t felt before. It will pass with the heated haze. Though, it is frustrating that I can’t seem to overcome it enough to get motivated to work in the studio. Though I have actually started a new work, I feel completely disentranced about the process. This, too, will pass. It’s like writer’s block with a paintbrush.

Edith Piaf on a Sat. Night

Happy Birthday Nick!!

Last weekend was lovely on several levels. I spent it at the beach with George and our dear friend Marnie was able to visit as well. It was a very full weekend and to document all of it into this entry would require more time than I am ready or able to devote to it. So, in order to catch up on the last 4 missing days so that I may move onto my the true subject of this post, I am going to create a little list here of experiences that have occurred since my last entry. This list covers the time between my last post from the morning of Friday, June 15 to now. This list is in no particular chronological order, and, frankly, not all of the experiences contained within the list are necessarily “positive” (though most were). Since most concepts of “positive” and “negative” experiences are relative anyway, I’ll leave it up to you to decide which is which based upon your own personal life experience.
Here tis...
▪ I watched the season opener of “The Closer”
▪ I picked fresh raspberries from the bush in my garden
▪ I attended an summer garden cocktail party with about 150 other people guests
▪ I finally watched “Batman Begins”
▪ Looked for sea glass on the beach
▪ Drank vanilla/blueberry vodka martinis
▪ Purchased a pair of linen pants at Banana Republic
▪ Received a royalty check from an art gallery
▪ Learned of the news of the sudden death of the father of a close friend
▪ Sketched in my sketchbook
▪ Met a man who’s partner was killed in NYC on 9/11
▪ Made a definitive decision to end a friendship gone bad
▪ Purchased and began reading “Manhunt”
▪ Completed a crossword puzzle
▪ Ate pizza
▪ Ate fried chicken
▪ Lost 3 pounds
▪ Engaged in stimulating thought provoking conversation
▪ Made 2 small flower arrangements
▪ Finally learned the meaning behind certain baseball statistics
▪ Danced in my living room
▪ Learned that people who drive vintage cars have to mix lead into the gasoline themselves
▪ Emptied sand from my shoes
▪ Went grocery shopping
▪ Was bitten by mosquitoes
▪ Woke up early

---

End of list. Now onto something else.
Today happens to be the birthday of my dear younger brother Nicholas. He was born on this day 29 years ago, and event that I remember quite clearly since I was 13 at the time. So, in order to visually put things in perspective, here are some images that came back as hits from the search engine at flickr.com when I put 1978 into the search field.
Enjoy.