We need a new art movement name. So until anyone else comes along with a name for this period in art, I am calling this movement—today’s art movement—Art Point .0 (Art Point Zero).
On one trip with my Dad, the train pulled up to the station and he disembarked. But I didn’t. Just as the doors had opened, a girl around my age (maybe 7) looked at me strangely, then deliberately turned her ice cream cone upside down and smashed it on top of my arm. I was too shocked to move and the doors shut with Dad trying frantically to get back in….
This was one of those paintings that I kept painting over and over. It started out as an abstract. Then I painted over the abstract and added two giraffes that looked as if they belonged in a child’s nursery – not exactly the look I was going for.
This quote from David Bowie pretty much sums up the way all life should be: “I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I promise it won’t be boring.” And it pretty much sums up the way a website should be, too, e.g., if someone comes for a visit and they don’t know what to do – or they go to a page with a 404 error – at least make the visit an adventure.
One time when I went to visit my sister, she asked me if I’d paint a mural for her. We come from very creative parents and she wanted my animals in a jungle themed wall mural on her kitchen wall (of all places – you’d expect this to be a nursery or playroom mural). She called it her Safari Mural.
Every step I can take to prevent Covid goes into my outside preparations (up to and including having only outdoor shoes and indoor shoes – and dropping my backpack outside my door once I return). Once the pandemic prevention measures are finished, I head to a park. This week I visited the Lilac Garden in Central Park (it’s on the edge of the Sheep Meadow – 69th street area, midway).
This painting is about Alphabet City and Tompkins Square Park, with its crazy yippie and draft dodging past, and nice little restaurant, Pardon My French.
As if the sirens weren’t loud enough during the pandemic – the fireworks started! So many people complained about them, but I loved when they started up. They were proof that someone was living during the pandemic.
One of the most perfect places on earth is Scotland. My brother Micah and his wife Suzanne lived in the Perthshire area for the longest time, up on Sheriffmuir Road (think Monty Python and the Holy Grail). That’s probably my favorite place in all of Scotland, so I was sad when they moved to the Isle of Skye, but, heck,……
One of the ways Mark is remarkable is that he allows me to grieve over Bill, still, after all these years – he even looks for signs that Bill might be around, still, somehow, somewhere. The day we visited the White Horse, we sat outside (because, of course, this is the year of the pandemic). Not long after our beers arrived, so did a redbird. I’d never seen a redbird in NYC. Just sparrows and pigeons. Mark said, “Yep, Bill’s here.”