18×36 on cradled birch wood. sold.
This weekend, at the artist community I live in,a girl tried to commit suicide from the third floor window. Friend found her with bones sticking out both her legs. Moral of the story: try harder.
I am currently staying in an artists community in portland. Its an old nursing home, converted to an adult dorm. Its full of weirdos, so i like it. Alot of depressed residents have been consulting me on life advice, which i love. They don’t know i am really bad at life, or maybe they sense it and in such failure, there is wisdom. The building is on 82nd avenue, which is the hot spot for hookers in portland. Thus, i keep getting solicited when i am out and about. its funny, and ill take it over my interpreted appearance in seattle which was drug dealer/homeless person needing a sandwich.
Hung a show last week on alberta street, hoping i will be well received here. Also have been applying for alot of long-shot projects. I am in the final pool of applicants for one of them, so i am crossing my fingers. Going on an interview tomorrow for a super awesome job at a screen printing warehouse. REALLY hope i don’t fuck it up by inappropriately snorting or saying something asinine, being prone to both.
I have been playing around with cradled birch wood in lieu of canvas, and also reworking my brush strokes on my newest pieces.
been eating a lot of potatoes, anticipating utter poverty.