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.