Friday, August 22, 2014

egoist, street art enthusiast, beercolor painter and that

...pronounced TIP-dog.

Kevin Woida's awesome painting hangs above the turntables to inspire thorough and relieving scratching.

 There is the huge question that  wonders me to sleep some nights... "what happened to all the stuff I painted?"  Granted a lot of it is in the garage. That is a problem I think a lot of painters face, but even looking through the paintings I managed to document for this blog "project", which represents less than half of the paintings I have done in the last eight years or whatever, the fact is almost everything I have painted in my life is gone. I would estimate that I retain less than five percent of my own work. So where the hell is it?

I was visiting my dear frienddd (long tangential run on here) whose nickname I recently realized is not even "Greazy DC" but "GC" which does make sense since those are his actual initials and he's not form the DC area, hes from the KC area as the hat (backup hat not pictured) would suggest, (back to the  important sentence) AAAAnd realized that some of my art is in his house, along with the art of more talented and interesting painters like Kevin Woida. So I started a new "project" (just these three photos really, in all likely-hood this is the end of the "project") to track down art in peoples lives and homes.  How does it share the space with the rest of a persons important things? Does it play nice? I do this because I am an egotistical wretch and need to know that my passing through this world will leave some kind of mark. If not a bruise, a ripple. I am really exited to see how far this "project will carry me. (I have decided to abandon the project just now, because it is too much work and not interesting)

 But something that does interest me is this awesome memorial? to a guy with a beard who may have only been a year old. Found on the top of Black Butte fire watch, where I left my second annual vampire Jet Jet.

 I leave these tiny hastily done paintings around when I travel because I am too old and allergic to jail to do real street art, but part of my job here is to keep up on whats going on in the streets by way of the creative class. This is what I noticed the arty types throwing up on the walls of Portland this month. As well as a big shout out to my favorite dive bar, the epicenter of my love story, and the home of what may well be Portland's best fries.
best snail style!
acupuncture study guide? on the 8 market on Belmont

Can you guess where this is?

It's the bar I met my wife in.

The bathroom mirrors are not even mirrors really.
House across from Nuestra Cucina, So good!
Then finally because I am actually turning into a quieter more respectful and observant being with every breath, I continued my watercolor practice. It is so nerdy and makes my brain hurt while I do it. But I am starting to enjoy the flood of considerations that I have to meet as I priorities light, color, shape, distance, perspective, butt pain, bug tolerance and the difference between painting with water or beer. Yes at least one of these is technically a beer-color painting.
Beautiful lake, secret location, can't tell.
Respectable pond, at Black Butte.

Towels, BBQ, Trees.

Just Trees.

Clinton St.

Embodied cognition, Painting and Heartache.

This last year has brought me all kinds of opportunities for growth. At this ripe old age I would say that heartbreak ...