I just spent my birthday at the Venice Biennale, where I cried in the morning because the lady at the cafe was being mean and weird.
I paid for my Italian birthday trip with part of the money I made from a private mural commission in New Jersey, where I spent a full summer of weekends finishing this dramatic seascape on an apartment wall that went over seven feet in either direction. It’s interesting I should end up in water-world Venice after painting all that water.
But right before that, I was painting plein-air in Paris as part of my job. I sold a painting - still wet - to a local artist, and was offered an art show at a cafe on Avenue Trudaine near Montmartre. I did not have to buy my own plane tickets, gracias a dios.
You probably signed up for these emails a long time ago, and though I’ve hardly written to you, I have a newfound resolve to document things and keep your emails simple, sharing mystery and insight into artistic pursuit.
The horrors persist, but so do I.
Did you know I put off for three years what took me 20 minutes to complete last night? Merginging subscriber lists and reconnecting Mailchimp with Squarespace, a combination of being fed up with myself and sitting by a pretty lamp with food. Sometimes you just need a big snack and a conversation with the abyss.
