I'll answer your phone...

I have much to do this morning all of which rotates about my getting a very large box containing two of my paintings to the FedEx center so that they may be shipped to a gallery in Charlotte in time for it's Grand Opening on Friday.

Lets look at this instead...



I may have posted this weirdness once before, but every time I run across the image of this post card I have to stop and take it all in. Is this a real secretary? If so, where the hell is she? Where would one find an office like that? Perhaps a chicken processing factory or an illegal sweat shop located in some forgotten town deep in the Mid-West. Does her face reflect an expression of eagerness or desperation? Perhaps this is the result of a blind date gone bad - "now, I want you to sit over there and answer my phone".

She could be one of those unfortunate victims of those evil hypnotists that plagued B movies of the 1950's. Perhaps when she answered the phone, a dark and raspy voice uttered some strange word that threw her into a deep trance.



You can almost hear her monotone voice speaking "Yes, master. I hear and obey. Must open safe.". Then again, perhaps she is the Principal's secretary at Lake Wannanugga High and she is defiantly phoning the police with a fresh list of the town hooligans who just hurled two dozen rotten eggs at her 1962 Ford Fairlane.



We may never know the secrets offered to us by Gertrude, Eunice, Orvilina, or whatever her name happens to be. We can only guess. Which makes it much more fun.

Self-Portrait Tuesday and arguments from beyond the grave

It's Self-Portrait Tuesday folks...



There I am catching the light of the rising sun as it came streaming into my window. Though I slept well last night, I can't shake this very realistic dream in which I was having very heated arguments with both of my parents over rather deep seated unresolved issues. I use the term "unresolved" because these were issues that I have never had a discussion about with my parents, and frankly, never will, since both have been dead for several years now.

In the dream, I was back in the house where I was raised though I was my current adult age. My parents appeared to be in their mid 40's. On oddity of the dream is that they were never in the same room with each other. I kept having to walk from room to room to speak with them seperately. It's possible, though unclear as the dream grows more and more foggy with each passing waking second of the morning, that I was having two different and distict heated discussions with each parent. In fact, I'm not sure that either were aware of the other's presence.

Though the dream felt somewhat cathartic in a very minute sense, overall, it was not an enjoyable experience and certainly not the type of "dream visitations" that one reads about in books prefaced by Oprah and Deepak. Though, to be fair, I have had those experiences in the past and found them very enjoyable.

In any event, let this serve as a message to any whom may stumble across this post, if you've unresolved issues with your parents, or others of importance in your life, don't wait for a nocturnal visitation from beyond the grave to hash it out, do it now. In fact, with those written words, I've realized that there are a couple of people that I may need to contact today.

Woke up, got out of bed...

Monday morning. I groggily shuffled my feet through the pre-morning purple haze to the octagon shaped window in my room where I discovered that a light coating of snow had dusted the neighborhood at some mysterious point during the night. Since the sun had not completely risen, everything was bathed in soft pink and frosty blue hues unless temporarily caught in the warm yellow gaze of headlights shining forward from a sluggish passing car creaking up the icy road.
It was a serene and sweetly surreal scene and it provided me with a soft landing into the reality of another January morning.



I stood there silently for several minutes straddling the realm between waking consciousness and dream as an orange sun reluctantly appeared over the distant horizon like a child in an outlandish costume being nudged on stage.
From my little octagon window on the top floor of my house on top of the only hill in my little town, I watched the cautious sun back light a passing train heading into the early morning madness of a Philadelphia rush hour. It was somewhat magical, like placing your eyes against those antique flicker machines and turning the crank. For a nanosecond, each window frame and silhouetted passenger passed between the fiery glow of the morning sun and my eyes. It was then that I decided to head downstairs, feed the cats, make the coffee and start my day.

Wednesday - it just is what it is

Because flickr wasn't working properly yesterday afternoon, I wasn't able to post my Self-Portrait Tuesday image. So, I'm posting it today instead. Here tis -



I downloaded the latest version of Firefox replacing an earlier version on my Mac and I must admit, I wish I hadn't. Several bits of functionality that I enjoyed in the earlier version are missing from version 2.0.0.1. I wonder if I can find the earlier version somewhere.

I was offered two solo exhibits yesterday to take place later this Summer (one in June and the other in August). I was happy to accept the offers and am looking forward to spending quite a bit of time in the studio, much of which will be documented here I suppose. The news lifted me out of a slight funk that had enveloped my head over the last couple of weeks. I'm sure it's seasonal with a tinge of mid-life crisis mixed in.

In fact, I was really quite blue Monday -



But I snapped out of it. Truth is, I'm feeling much better now.

The Radical Christian Right Is Built on Suburban Despair

I was having a conversation over dinner with close friends last evening, when the issue of politics and the radical christian right arose. Synchronistically, my beliefs echoed almost exactly with those of Chris Hedges ( former Middle East bureau chief for The New York Times and the author of "War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning") in his brilliant article entitled: The Radical Christian Right Is Built on Suburban Despair which can be read by clicking here http://www.alternet.org/stories/46908/



It's important to understand what these people are thinking. It's based in fear, hate, insecurity, and above all ignorance. I am so goddamned tired of the ignorance of so many people. I feel as if I have been battling it all of my life...









Why do so many people revel in it?

New Art Day : "Moonlight and Fog"

I've been a busy boy. Here is the latest work that I finished yesterday. I'm very pleased with it. I call it "Moonlight and Fog". It's 36" x 48". The curator for the Chasen Gallery found it "fabulous!!". SO, that's where she'll be off to soon.



Here's a detailed image of the face of the work:



Back to the studio now!

The Psychology Behind the Worst Possible President

Please read this great article by Jane Smiley on HuffingtonPost.com:

The Psychology Behind the Worst Possible President: By Jane Smiley

I'll be back later this morning with images of my new work. Here's a nice, though odd, visual in the interim.



Clearly, he's on his way into the middle of the street to retrieve the baseball, though, it is possible, since there seems to be little or no other text, that he may be his way to the nearest meth-lab or perhaps a quick jaunt over to the town tramp.



In any event, remember boys and girls - safety first! By always looking both ways, this chap will reach his destination unscathed.

Self-Portrait Tuesday

Wow - I'm rather busy today studio wise with a few extra errands tossed in. Here's a S.P.T. image.



By the way, I'm going to this with several friends. If you're able to, I suggest you do the same:
http://www.unitedforpeace.org/article.php?id=3468

Oh the horror of Orlon and attached belts

It's Saturday morning - almost 9:00 AM. We're off to DC today to celebrate the birthday of a friend. It's supposed to be a surprise, so - I'll hope that he has better things to do on a Saturday morning than to peruse my blog.
I have a major art sale in the works which is exciting, though there are several hoops to leap through, some of which may be on fire. I am confident, however, that I will be able to leap through them with agility and ease.



In the interim, feast your eyes upon this fashion nightmare from the not so distant yesteryear.



Oh, the horror! How was it possible for so many people to think that these hopelessly effete orlon sweaters would ever work? These models look like buffoons. I wonder what their first thoughts were when they stepped into the wardrobe room at the agency. After slipping into these ecru monstrosities with the odd adage of a useless, matching and attached belt, I wonder if they felt pretty and free from the suffocating confines of 1970's over the top machoism. It is possible, however, that one of my junior high mathematics instructors wore one of these hideous garments in the mid to late 70's. Very possible indeed...

Just slosh it on...

It's Friday morning and I'm in the mood for silliness...

"Who is it?"

Stumbled across this on youtube.com. Anyone in my age group who watched and loved The Electric Company on PBS as a kid will no this immediately. Watching it just now brought forth a wistful yet welcoming laugh. Enjoy.

In Memoriam...Yvonne De Carlo

I was saddened to learn of the passing of actress Yvonne De Carlo. Though most people knew her as Lily Munster in the 1964-1966 horror-movie spoof "The Munsters" she had a long and prosperous film career in Hollywood making over 120 films and co-staring with some of Hollywood's most famous leading men including Burt Lancaster, Tony Curtis, Lloyd Bridges, Rock Hudson, Van Heflin and more. Plus, she was absolutely stunningly beautiful. I once painted a work based on her likeness which sold to a collector long ago. Oddly enough, I was just speaking about that work with some artist friends last night.



In Memoriam:
Yvonne De Carlo
Sept. 1, 1922 - Jan. 8, 2007

Happy B-Day Legends...

Wow - it just so happens that today happens to be the birthday of several amazingly talented musicians such as Donald Fagen (59), Rod Stewart (62), Pat Benatar (54), and Shawn Colvin (51). SO, if by some strange chance, one of you happens to be connected to one of these birthday musicians, please wish them a very wonderful birthday from me. Or, better yet, if one of you birthday musicians haps upon this page in some strange twist o' fate, please accept my wishes for a very happy birthday indeed. I simply can't imagine my musically formative years without Steely Dan, Maggie Mae, or Hit Me With Your Best Shot.

Lazy Dazy... the narcoleptic doll from hell

I found this retro-mercial on youtube.com. I can't decide which is more disturbing, the commercial itself or the narcoleptic doll. This definitely falls under the category of WTF!

Martini and Rossi, on the rocks...say yes.

What began as a rainy Monday this morning has transformed into a sunny and lovely afternoon. Here, it is about 3:30 PM. Cruely, the sun will begin to set in about 1.5 hours, but that's Winter and there is no controlling that.

I had a rather busy morning with errands and I was able to get in a very enjoyable power walk about an hour ago. This morning, I was somewhat saddened by this news item:

Burt Bacharach’s daughter commits suicide
Nikki Bacharach suffered from Asperger’s Disorder

It's not as if I personally know Burt Bacharach or Angie Dickinson or their daughter. It just struck me as a sad story all around. Suicide is always just a sad thing. That is a very simplified statement for a very complex issue, but, ultimately, there is sadness involved in suicide regardless of the situation. I have known several people over the years who have committed suicide and I have also known several people who had family members who committed suicide as well.

Based on the article, the 40 year old Nikki could no longer deal with the complications of Asperger's Disorder and opted to quitely end her life. Tragic all around, really.

Burt and Angie, when I was a kid in the 70's, were the hip couple. There were these Martini and Rossi commercials that aired at that time featuring the two of them. I didn't even know what Martini and Rossi was at the time, but the way they warbled the impossibly catchy ditty praising the ruby colored liquor on the rocks with the breathtaking view from their enchanting Malibu home lovingly framing the ruggedly handsome Burt as his fingers gently tickled the ivories of his super-polished baby grand was enough to whisk me away from the impossible confines of my Kentucky lower middle-class blue collar childhood.



And when the sun-kissed Angie would glide over as if her feet weren't touching the floor in a billowy and sparkling evening gown that fit her like a wet watercolor sketch with her rocks glass filled with the shimmering M&R swirling in concert with the wind chime like clinking of the pristine ice cubes, forget about it!



So, there was some sadness in my heart when I read the article and I hope that they will be able to get through this troubled chapter of their lives as well as possible.

The Dead Girl, Easter, & Sequence

This film looks phenomenal and is now on my must see list:



http://www.firstlookstudios.com/deadgirl/

This is my new favorite work of Art o' De Day. It's by J. C. Leyendecker and it served as the cover for the Easter edition of The Saturday Evening Post in 1923!



I am still battling a cold which has left me moody and unfit for social interaction. However, that will change come this evening as I am having two good friends over for dinner and this very fun game


Tomorrow, it is to be 70 degrees and Sunny. Cold or no cold, I'm going to be outside somewhere, somehow.

Portrait time with Randi Rhodes...

Randi emailed me some images from the unveiling of the portrait that I painted of her. This is one of my favorites. What a wonderful and unforgetable night that was!

Saturday - in the park - I think it was the 6th of January..

For all of those who may regularly read this blog, let's say for arguments sake, perhaps, 3, it is not difficult to notice that I haven't posted an entry since ringing in the new year. There was nor reason in particular other than I simply didn't feel the need to do so. I had already decided that if I were to post a new year's entry, it would NOT be one of gushing sentimentality filled with with silly phrases about "the first day of the rest of your life" and "one door closes so another may open". There' s plenty of that verbosity to be found online especially when ringing in a new year. It always reminds me of the saccharine sweet type of phrases that wide eyed teenaged girls with big hair and cloud soft turtle neck pastel colored sweaters would write in each other's year books when I was in school. You know the type, the one's who always liked to draw horses and ponies on the back of their spiral notebooks.



I ended 2006 by attending the funeral for a friend and began it with a head cold, but I won't let such things set me back. My friend's exit from this world was as natural as his entrance and the head cold has begun to subside (thank you Alka Seltzer Plus). Also, the head cold has made my goal of staying away from the occasional/on its way to becoming habitual cigarette smoking nonsense that I left Kentucky with as a departing gift after my month long stint there this time last year much easier to uphold. Manifestation is easy, you just have to be precise in what you as the universe for especially when it comes to details on how you want it to come to you - that's the tricky part.

I intend to make this a year of onward and upward movement for myself on many levels. Besides, the weather forecast for this coming Saturday is sunny with a high of 69! In January, in New Jersey! 69!! Global warming or not, I'm going to the park with a picnic basket and a bottle of wine. Now that's the way to break in a new year.