Frizzy fly-aways!

I've been on something of a vacation from the Art House for over a week. I told my daughter yesterday on our way out how good it felt to be able to leave at 2:00, to come and go as I please, but how it won't feel so good when I can't go back at all after I close. I will miss it. I like having it there waiting around for me.

Perhaps I'll miss it the way I miss sugar in my coffee, or the way I miss martinis before dinner. Maybe I'll miss it the way I'd miss T.V. if I didn't have one. They're all nice to have but not really necessary. They're all bad habits that make you unhealthy in one way or another...


Running a public art space is like that for me, more of a vice and a guilty pleasure than it should be. Although it adds to my life in many ways, I end up spending all my time trying to make it work which ultimately takes me away from my true intention which is to paint and make art.

INTENTION is such a strong and important word. Something that should be kept at the top of every list under every category. Without it we flail about undecidedly, confusing everyone around including ourselves. Even so, I have to admit, sometimes even the most purposed intentions lead you in unexpected directions...

...art wrestling


I wish I were a better writer and could actually control this pen in my hand. My writing is more of a purge at misgiven times. Unannounced recordings that occur the moment before they combust in my brain. I wish I could learn to corral them more successfully, I mean more intentionally. It's the same way I go into the studio with all these intentions and come out with something completely different all the time.

Reminds me of the conversation I was having the other day with Jocelyn, my good friend who also cuts my hair. When you have this curly hair that I have you don't really have control over the thing, you're just sort of in charge of it. It will ultimately have it's way no matter what. Sounds like my writing. Sounds like my artwork these days too. In fact sounds like pretty much everything these days.

Maybe all art is that way, coming and going and flailing around as it pleases. We're just the officers in charge for the day trying to corral those frizzy fly-aways!