Corporations are Cool; Your Community is Dumb

May 16, 2014

"Corporations are Cool; Your Community is Dumb." 4/22/14. Acrylic and spray paints, ink, and modeling paste. 36x36".
“Corporations are Cool; Your Community is Dumb.” 4/22/14. Acrylic and spray paints, ink, and modeling paste. 36×36″.

Immediately after completing “Nothing’s Good Enough Because I’m Not,” I pulled out another canvas and got to work. I set out to do something a little different: a landscape. Not a traditional landscape but, still, a landscape of sorts. Pretty quickly that idea fell apart and I found myself working on another painting not radically unlike all of my other paintings. Which is cool – I mean, my paintings look like my paintings for a reason… (’cause they totally are!) But you can still kinda make out what was (supposed to be) my orange sun, pink ocean, and blue sky (with purple clouds)…

I left Sarasota for Jacksonville, to set up downtown for One Spark. I wasn’t an official “One Spark Project Creator” but that just meant that I could sell whatever I wanted without playing by their rules. I got the same spot on the street (outside Burrito Gallery) that I had taken at March’s Downtown Artwalk (the night I had sold so many prints that I told my friends I was “makin’ STRIPPER MONEY“). I was excited for the weekend and my snarky, (gleeful), sorta tongue-in-cheek caption, “CORPORATIONS ARE COOL – YOUR COMMUNITY IS DUMB,” is a reflection of that.

A lot of people take it for granted as meaning/being whatever they want it to (genuine or sarcastic) but some people like to ask me what I meant. “Nothing,” I say. “I’m just a little shit-eater.” Which is to say that I like to (playfully) fuck with people (just a little bit, innocuously). The truth is that I don’t care about corporations or community; I care about me. There are three spots on the canvas where I journaled and, while I didn’t intend for them to relate, they all sorta do. More to the point, they reflect the kinds of concerns that actually bounce around in my head.

On April 10th, the second day of One Spark, I was handing out fliers when some woman actually crumpled up my li’l bio sheet and handed it back to me. Seriously?! I get it if you’re offended by the word “fucking” [as in “I’m a fucking artist, guys“] but this thing says I have a personality disorder and used to shoot heroin but now manage my illness with art. That’s like – the sweetest thing ever! How the fuck is somebody gonna crumple that shit up? (I got a personality disorder! I’m fragile!). Anyway… my journal from that day says: “Every rejection today hurts a lot more than usual. This is probably the best or worst possible path for someone like me. I don’t expect the world to baby me but… well.. maybe I sort of do.”

A week later, on April 17th: “I’m depressed ’cause I’m at my exhibit and yesterday everything was set up awesome and today the owner came in and was all bent outta shape about a bunch of stuff and now I don’t know what’s cool and what isn’t. I don’t even want to set up to paint so I’ve got this [canvas] on my knees, propped against a wall awkwardly. It’s too windy outside. I just wanna leave. The lights aren’t even on. My art is in the dark. I’m done showing at anything but galleries. I feel sleepy and lethargic and I wanna give up again.”

In hindsight, that stuff shouldn’t have affected me as much as it did, but (as angry as I once was) it’s pretty rare that I even so much as encounter anyone getting really angry these days and it, consequently, fucked with my head a little bit, even if it wasn’t directed specifically at me.

Lastly (and best of all), from April 19th: “By 11 AM this morning, I was at work on my painting and I had already eaten half a cake, drank a BANANAS FOSTER cappuccino from 7 Eleven, gone to the [art] store for more supplies, and shown my penis to TWO girls.”

So…

(just to be clear)

“YOUR COMMUNITY IS DUMB”: If you’re doing cool shit, people are gonna wanna be close to it and are gonna be inspired to do cool shit of their own. Suddenly, it’s gonna feel like you’re part of a pretty rad community. On the other hand, if you’re one of those people that sits around griping about how “there’s no community here” or preaching to people about how “we need to do more work to build community!,” nobody’s gonna give a shit about any of that and you’re gonna be spinning your wheels in that same mindset forever. Either way, community is made up of people, we’re all flawed, and sometimes shit’s gonna be great, sometimes it’s gonna be not.

“CORPORATIONS ARE COOL”: Big multinational corporations are mixed up in some pretty fucked up shit, pretty much across the board, and that’s like – a total bummer, dude. But you know what? Home Depot is open late, pretty close by, and has the wood screws I need. Coca-Cola makes sugary bullshit that tastes good and doesn’t cost all my moneys. That local coffee shop is a nice enough place to sit for a minute but they don’t have internet on the weekends and they charge FIVE TIMES more for a refill than Starbucks. And where the fuck else am I gonna buy a 12x18x6″ lockbox other than Walmart? The Dead Kennedys were boring and I’m pretty sure they were aiming for SATIRE when they said, “give me convenience or give me death,” but… take out the dramatic ultimatum and it’s right on target. I’m not trying to save the world with my “dollar votes” and I’m not trying to spend all day driving around to support independent businesses that don’t offer anything more than the corporate stores. I got bigger fish to fry, funny faces to paint, and girls to show my penis to.

The original 3-foot “Corporations” painting’s already been purchased by 1-foot limited-edition prints are now on sale in the webstore. Buy one and help me live to see another day. (ANTIPSYCHOTICS DON’T GROW ON TREES).

Introducing… Chris Spillane

May 14, 2014

The name “Chris Spillane” is gonna start popping up in just about everything I write (and already has in my Facebook posts) so I figure a little explanation is in order.

Chris is one of my oldest / best friends. When I came back to Sarasota two weeks back, he was in bad shape. We got into heroin together back when we were kids but have slid in and out of the danger zone with it to different degrees and at different times. After a relatively long stretch of clean time that began last summer, Chris started shooting up again earlier this year. He also started smoking and shooting crack. That’s not entirely new (I’ll tell the story of the first time we smoked crack later) but it had never been a regular thing until just recently. So, anyway, Chris’s April featured such exciting developments as (1) losing his job, (2) losing his dog, (3) losing his home, and (4) losing his girlfriend. And things weren’t exactly getting any better from there. On April 30th, some friends and I filed Marchman Act papers to have Chris picked up by the police and put into detox and then (ideally) transferred to the Salvation Army’s long-term inpatient treatment program. Which all worked out until Chris panicked and ran off into the night last Friday. With ideas about heroin, overdosing, and death. Thankfully, before he followed through with that, he called me and I picked him up. He’s been with me ever since.

We looked at the options. Chris could try to get back into the Salvation Army’s treatment program, which might be good for him but it’s pretty clear that it’s not all that tough to leave on a whim and – should Chris get anxious or scared and walk out again – things might not work out quite as nicely next time around. SO, with that in mind, we’re going with plan B. Chris is coming on the road with me for the time being. He can help me with all the practical/work parts of my “job” and maybe (just maybe) see that life without heroin can be pretty fucking spectacular. I realize that art (and my lifestyle, more generally) isn’t a universal cure and I don’t think Chris is gonna wanna become an artist and live like this for the rest of his life. But (hopefully) he’ll have some fun and find something to get excited about (something worth living for). All I know for sure is that that’s a fuck of a lot more likely to happen on the road with me than back in Sarasota. And a whole lot less dangerous, for him specifically.

Granted, this has the potential to become pretty stressful for me (it’s a lot of responsibility to take on) and I can be pretty fragile myself some days. But, ultimately, it’s more than worth it to me. I love the kid. And – like I said – Chris will be able to help me out in a lotta ways. Just for starters, the distances between the cities I’ll be visiting are about to increase exponentially as I get out of Florida. Chris can split the driving with me and I’ll be able to hang out in the back of the van and actually paint (or write) as I make my way from city to city. (That’s pretty awesome).

So that’s the latest development and (barring any further unforeseen developments) the next time you see me, you’ll be seeing Chris too. He’s one of my favorite people on the planet and will be one of the best people you’ll ever meet. Here’s a picture of me eating some pizza and cutting his hair, the morning after he left treatment.

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How to Bed a Girl When Your Bed is in a Minivan

May 8, 2014

"How to Bed a Girl When Your Bed is in a Minivan." 3/20/14. Acrylic paint, spray paint, and ink. 60x40".
“How to Bed a Girl When Your Bed is in a Minivan.” 3/20/14. Acrylic paint, spray paint, and ink. 60×40″.

Last summer, when I added my painting, “Hard Feelings,” to my website, I remember thinking, “For all the space that sex takes up in my head, it doesn’t seem to come up in my artwork very often.” That’s because (like EVERYONE) I have a hard time talking about sex without certain reservations.

But I write about everything! I’m an open fucking book! Right?!? People always tell me how they admire the honesty and vulnerability of my art and writing. But if I was so honest and vulnerable, why was one of my biggest preoccupations almost totally absent from my art? Why was I so hesitant to talk about sex – directly and bluntly?

(‘Cause it’s not fucking easy!)

I resolved to push myself to do it anyway. After all, each of these paintings is a reflection of what’s going on in my head as I’m making them. If they’re silent on sex, that means I’m holding back and not being the artist I wanna be.

In late January, I broke up with my girlfriend and gave up my house to live on the road, traveling between cities, meeting with galleries, and pursuing art 100% full-time. BEST DECISION EVER. Right from the start, I was getting back everything I was putting in and then some. In February, my biggest painting yet went up in Ettra, a gallery in Delray Beach. When I got word that it had sold in March, I drove right back down to drop off my two newest paintings and to (while there) paint a third that I’d also leave behind. It’s called “How to Bed a Girl When Your Bed is in a Minivan” and – like any piece that I put more than forty hours into – it’s got a few things going on…

First and foremost, it’s a celebration of my excitement – of my life in general, of how well things had been going. The text at the top right of the canvas:

I’m on a public street, darting around my canvas (practically dancing with it), sometimes singing along to the weird punk rock spewing outta my little speaker. (I’m sure I look insane). But I’m getting away with it. None of it matters. Because “I’M A FUCKING ARTIST, GUYS.” I’m quoting myself – AND GETTING AWAY WITH IT! (Because I’m an artist). I can use pick up lines like, “Hey, girl – play your cards right and you could be fuckin’ in my minivan.” I GET AWAY WITH ALL THIS AND MORE!! ‘Cause art. And my BEAUTIFUL SOUL. Though it would be cool to have running water too… Keep reachin’ for that dream, Sam!

Or below that:

I’m really happy. I got what I wanted. A new city each day. I’ve got the recurring guest role. No one knows me too well. Every interaction is a first. I tell my stories to fresh audiences every day. I am the recipient of a constant stream of praise and affection. […] I love what I do, I believe in myself, I know what I want, and I fucking get after it and make it happen. This is my life and I fucking love it.

The glee in those statements is also sort of what this painting’s title and center caption are about… How do you bed a girl when your bed’s in a minivan??? YOU PAINT BIG FUCKING PAINTINGS THAT LOOK REALLY COOL, SELL FOR A LOT OF MONEY, AND SHOWCASE YOUR WIT, CHARM, AND COMPLEXITY – BOTH AS A HUMAN BEING AND AN ARTIST.

Or (as the aforementioned center caption reads):

I’m not sure if you noticed but I’m SUPER talented… And such a FASCINATING fucking character… Pull up a chair and I’ll talk AT you about how god damn special I am!

That’s meant to be funny but it is word-for-word almost exactly something I said to a girl just a few weeks prior. And something I was continuing to say to other girls. Successfully! Which – in addition to everything happening with my art – was genuinely exciting. I had this new confident attitude / approach that (ridiculous as it may be) was totally justified. I don’t care if this comes across as arrogant ’cause it’s taken me twenty-eight years to feel this way; I am talented and I am a fascinating character (oh -and yeah – I fucking talk about myself a lot). Now, if I were the only person saying those things, well… that’d be one thing. But I’m not. I hear that stuff from other people every day.

SO – if that’s the case then why do I need to say it at all? Well, ’cause – Look! Over there! It’s a girl I want to have sex with! TONIGHT! …And since I’m not SUPER FAMOUS just yet – well – how’s she gonna know unless I tell her??

Which is where this painting takes a little bit of a sad turn (and where the whole “I’m afraid to talk about sex” thing comes full circle). If I really believe in myself, then why am I still trying to find validation through sex, other kinds of attention from girls, and (sometimes) even love? And I’m (apparently) so preoccupied with those thoughts that one of my two biggest pieces now is (essentially) an announcement to the world that (while I may live out of a van) “I GET LAID ALL THE TIME!” When I stop to consider how prominent sexual content’s been in almost all of my art these last three months, I can’t help but ask myself if I’m really still just pushing myself to be honest or if there is some component of “bragging” to this. Am I basing a (potentially) large piece of my self-worth on how many girls I can sleep with (and how many people know about it)?

I think it’s both. My art is about my life and sex is part of that. Especially now: this is the first time I’ve ever been committed to not having a girlfriend. Since I was seventeen, I’ve gone from one relationship to the next. Maybe it’s fair to say that I’m just taking advantage of and enjoying the freedom that comes with my itinerancy right now.

There are two separate blocks of text near the top of the canvas that, I feel, well-represent that dichotomy. While both are honest, I think their presence in this painting is consequent of two very different motives. The first says:

I slapped her in the face. Not hard. Playfully. Her eyes lit up. “I’ll hit you back,” she said. I smiled. “I’d like to see you try.” I hit her again and pinned her arms down. Thrust into her harder and deeper. She winced in pain. “Oh – you know what I like to hear!” I said. She looked at me, bright-eyed again, and told me I was a piece of shit. “Yes! Exactly like that! Keep going!” I HAVE FUN.

Why’s that in my painting? Well ’cause it had just happened, it was on my mind, and I was pretty pleased with myself. But, more to the point, I can also see and acknowledge that I intended it as bait – for girls that would read something like that and get turned on. And, in that sense, it feels a little less genuine.

The text just to the left of it (I think) ought to count for a little redemption. Not only is it sincere but it made me feel so vulnerable that I initially wrote it in black ink on top of black paint. I didn’t want anyone to be able to read it. It was only later that I got the courage to rewrite it in an area where it’d actually be legible. It says:

SOMETIMES I don’t want sex to be all that rough but I talk such a depraved, fucked up game that I feel like I’m always under pressure to live up to it.

There’s a lot more going on (and even a lot  more text) scattered across the canvas, but I think this stuff gets at the crux of the piece, so I’ll leave the rest to be sought out and interpreted without me.

October 2024 update: I’m going through a lot of these older posts to add links to the new webstore and (though I didn’t read this entry just now) I skimmed just enough of it to feel like – as with “Adventures Per Minute” – it could probably benefit from the same additional commentary I wrote in relation to the rough sex stuff described in that painting. If you’re at all troubled by what you’ve read here, please read my entry from earlier this week, “The elephant in my brain.“

18×12-inch “How to Bed a Girl When Your Bed is in a Minivan” prints are available for purchase in the webstore.

5/4/14

May 4, 2014

So far, so good but – for what it’s worth – I’m still feeling pretty “relapsy.”

On the one hand, I’ve been dealing with some pretty fucked up shit lately. On the other, I don’t *feel* especially sad or desperate or anything like that… So – while I’d *like to say* that – none of it’s really getting to me, it’s kind of hard to buy into that when (in the same breath) I’m also acknowledging this impulse that keeps firing off in my brain.

I’m not about to go out of my way to get heroin but I’m back in that place (mentally) where – should I run into the wrong person/situation – I’d probably make one of my less intelligent decisions.

Which is pretty dumb considering how well everything’s been going! I mean – shit – I’m virtually a POSTER CHILD for “turning it around” and building a new life (after heroin).

And yet – here I am – in my head, debating whether or not it’d be okay to shoot up again. (It’s kind of embarrassing). Then again, I’ll bet everyone (that’s kinda like me) has thoughts like these sometimes. They probably just don’t share them on THE INTERNET. ‘Cause – you know – EMBARRASSING. I’m supposed to be more stable (at least so far as drugs are concerned) at this point.

*Although*, maybe the fact that I’m writing this right now instead of [um] GOING OUT AND GETTING HIGH is proof that I *am* pretty stable.

So… um… you know… just putting that out there.

—–

Here’s a picture I took this week. The painting I’ve been working on and a friend I’ve been kicking around with.

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What I did today (4/23/14)

April 24, 2014

I worked on my current painting, “Adventures Per Minute,” which you can see a small part of on my Instagram.

I took my newest finished painting (“Corporations are Cool”) to my photographer’s studio so that I can start making prints of it. That’ll probably be the next one I add online, unless I get around to writing about the previous piece (“Nothing’s Good Enough Because I’m Not”) first.

I got new prints made, including the first run for “The Future Scares the Sit Out of Me.”

My original pieces are solely exhibited at Ettra in this area but I set up an exhibit of twenty-five of my prints at VapeTrends, where a friend works.

I built a portfolio featuring some press, other materials, and a couple dozen of my prints, along with the stories for each one, so that I’ll have a nice book to walk into galleries with when I’m soliciting new exhibits and showings.

Aside from the merit of my actual work, there’s a reason why I’ve been doing so well. I accomplish this much every single day. I feel overwhelmed by how much I still have to do but I won’t let it get to me. I’m gonna keep at it and I’ll be okay so long as I pause and remember to breathe every so often. I’ll do more before I go to bed tonight and I’ll do more tomorrow and every day after that. It’s what I need to do to be happy and to feel okay about who I am. And it’s working.

I’m proud of myself.

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A veritable shit ton of media

April 21, 2014

I haven’t had the time or the internet access to update my blog much in the last four weeks. For the sake of posterity and the benefit of anyone not clever enough to follow me on Facebook, here’s what I’ve been up to in the last month.

ninja turtlesOn March 29th, Mike and I went to buy some art supplies and I couldn’t help myself when I saw some ninja turtles masks for sale by the register.

On March 31st, I wrote: “As I go to bed on the last night in March, it is with the satisfaction that comes with having met my income goal for the month. And my income goal for next month. And the NEXT month. Things are going well. Here’s to keeping it moving, carrying it forward in April (which I already have fully blocked out in three cities). I love making art. I love that I’m able to support myself doing it. I’m really, truly happy. I am fulfilled.”

On April 2nd, I participated in Jacksonville’s monthly Downtown Artwalk. It was – at that time – the single most profitable evening of my career as an artist. I made more money in one night than I had made in an average month in 2013.  As I put it at the time: “Fuckin’ slaughtered at Artwalk tonight. We’re talkin’ Friday/Saturday night STRIPPER MONEY. I love you, Jacksonville.”

musicvideoLater that week, I hit the road for the premiere of “No Real Than You Are” at the Sarasota Film Festival. On the same day as the premiere, I got to play director for Rational Anthem’s music video, “Darnit.” Or as I told my friends, “I’m playing HOLLYWOOD all day!” I posted a photo on Facebook with the caption: “Directing a music video today; got the sunglasses to prove it.”

Getting to see myself LOOKING COOL on a seventy foot screen, in front of a sold out auditorium was pretty alright and though I didn’t have time to stick around and finish the music video shoot the next day, it turned out pretty excellent even without my BRILLIANT hand at the wheel.

On my way out of town, I had a thought: “We give meaning to each other’s lives. We give meaning to all the little things of our everyday. It all means more ’cause we make it mean more.” I was thinking about a lot of spectacular people in my life, but mostly Chris Hembrough. And the new Banner Pilot record.

The reason I left town in such a rush is that I had been invited to sell prints of my artwork outside of Burrito Gallery during One Spark. I set a goal for myself: to make more money over that weekend than I had ever previously made in an entire month. And I succeeded.  On the last night, I wrote: “To celebrate my earning four months income in FOUR DAYS. I am taking the night off to shower and then watch The Simpsons while I eat pizza and then sew up all the holes in my clothes.” A few hours later, I added that: “All truly great works of art can be divided into two categories: those that are pop punk songs and those that are Simpsons episodes. I’m exaggerating a little but not at all kidding.”

apocmeowtoddcBefore One Spark came to a close, I saw that the new split from Apocalypse Meow and Todd Congelliere (of Toys That Kill) had gone up for sale online. The artwork features my painting, “Poetry By Girls I’ve Brutally Fucked.” In the midst of everything else going on, being reminded that I had been lucky enough to contribute to such a cool project was really fulfilling. Icing on the cake. I posted a link on my Facebook with the caption: “We do cool shit every god damn day.” I’m lucky to have a lot of really talented, creative friends. And I fit right in with them these days. It puts a smile on my face.

zackOn One Spark Saturday, I met Zack, in whom I immediately recognized serious talent and I promptly offered him a job as my thirteen year old business manager. Not only could he close a sale but he reeled in the cute girls like there was no tomorrow. Here he is posing with a print of “Modern Art is Stupid (Everything Is).” I paid him in plastic chrome sunglasses, Mello Yellow Root Beer cocktails, and COLD HARD CASH (that I can only hope he doesn’t blow on bullshit like plastic chrome sunglasses and Mello Yellow Root Beer cocktails).

About a month ago, I recorded an interview for an internet radio show. Last week, I finally noticed that it had gone online. You can listen to it here: V For Vitality with Sammy thrashLife.

Facebook post from April 15th: “Sittin’ outside the art store, waiting for it to open so I can spend $200 on markers. For COLORIN’. I am a professional child.” One of the first projects I’m going to use my markers on is re-coloring “Still Sick (The Illest).” Seein’ as I didn’t know any better at the time, I used cheap markers that fade with time and the piece has lost some of its color since I made it.

printwallOn April 15th, I dismantled my exhibit at Burrito Gallery so that I could move all my original pieces over to The Silver Cow for my last Jacksonville art show. I did, however, replace the original pieces with a display of prints. Since I’ve now left, Burrito Gallery is the only place you can go in Jacksonville to buy my prints.

April 16th marked the opening day of my last exhibit in Jacksonville, as well as the publication of an article about me in Folio Weekly. There were a few emotional hiccups that morning and I wrote:

“Today is not going exactly as perfectly well as I wanted it to and EVERYONE NEEDS TO FEEL REALLY BAD FOR ME.
I am such a fucking crybaby. When I inventory my problems, I can’t even phrase them in such a way that the OVERWHELMING POSITIVES aren’t totally obvious. And yet I’m still feeling crippled by despair and just wanna give up on everything.
BUT I’m not giving up; I’m still doing everything I need / am supposed to do. It’s just a little bit harder today.”

tableofcontentsI’m really happy with the article though. You can read it on Folio’s website or in the image below. They also gave me the biggest photo in the table of contents.folioarticle

 

silvercowsignMy last show in Jacksonville went really well and I can’t think of a better way to have concluded my time there. Late last night, I got into Delray Beach, where I’ll be posting up for at least a week. I’ll know more about my time here within a day or so. Until then, here are some photos from the weekend.

Marleigh and I, outside Rain Dogs…
…for Spring Fest. 4/19/14.
My friend Jimmy, guarding my painting at George Deacon’s photography studio. 4/20/14.
Jimmy posing in Sun-Ray Cinema’s very own BLACK LODGE.

Also, here’s the video of my “performance” on March 22nd (that I mentioned in relation to my painting, “The Future Scares the Sit Out of Me“).

The Future Scares the Sit Out of Me

"The Future (Scares the Sit Out of Me)." 4/1/14. Acrylic and spray paints, with ink. 24x48".
“The Future (Scares the Sit Out of Me).” 4/1/14. Acrylic and spray paints, with ink. 24×48″.

On Saturday, March 22nd, I set up at Rain Dogs for a Wunderground art show. There were bands playing too. A poetry troupe. A stand-up comic. I knew all of this when it was booked in January. “Can I sign up to go on stage too?” “For poetry or comedy?” Mandie asked me. “I guess that all depends on the audience’s response!”

I had two poems I wanted to recite. They’re really bold. The kind of stuff that I’ve held off even from sharing on my website. A lot of my writing is painfully honest and extremely vulnerable but these are on another level. I didn’t know if I’d have the guts to share them for the first time from a stage. I also had some “material” that I thought would work as a stand-up routine. In the end, I didn’t prepare myself for poetry or comedy. About halfway through the night, I remembered that I had said I wanted to perform and – as tempting as it was to not bring it up and not take the stage – I didn’t want to be all talk. I had said I was going to get on stage, so I was going to get on stage; it didn’t matter how scared I was. I decided to just tell my story and then speak off the cuff about some of my pieces. I chose a couple dozen and put them in an order that’d flow well.

Rosaly said I’d go up in forty-five minutes. I was nervous. I scratched it out onto the canvas I had started that night.

“I am trying my best to kill time and anxiety. I know there is a certain weight and power to the things I do. I am not incredible but some of my actions might be. I hope this goes well but the response I get doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I’m doing it.”

The room had maybe thirty people scattered across it. Some of them continued to have conversations while I spoke. I just went on ahead and didn’t let it get to me. One guy in the back of the room started heckling me. He said I should’ve killed myself. He called me a “jerk-off.” I kept going. It helped that I couldn’t make out everything he was saying.

For the most part, I thought it went well. I got laughs at the parts I wanted to get laughs at. I got applause a couple times. People came up to me the rest of the night and told me how much they appreciated and liked what I had said. Still, I had somewhat higher hopes in terms of response. All I could think when I got off the stage was, “So… I did it, I guess…”

I don’t think my performance had an incredible impact on my income that night but it was still the single most profitable night I’ve had selling prints. It didn’t really phase me though because that’s the direction things have been moving. Consistently and quickly. I think that’s because I’m constantly facing my fears and acting in spite of them. My artwork and my writing, my stories, they’re intimate. I’m never excited to walk into a gallery, meet with some stranger (who’s probably itching to dismiss me the moment I walk through the door), and open myself up to him or her. But I fucking do it anyway. I don’t enjoy walking up to strangers on the street, smiling, and offering up a flier to my art show. But I do it anyway. Because that’s what it takes and that’s what accounts for my success thus far. And that’s what this painting is all about. As I wrote in the green box near the top left corner:

“I’m not terrified of the future the way that I used to be, but it’s scary enough to keep me moving. I’ve learned that “success” is possible but it’s something I have to be perpetually working toward and for. I’m not gonna sit back and wait to be discovered. I don’t WAIT for anything. I have to make things happen. It’s all on me. Success / failure – I’m responsible. I’m happy I found something where – whatever happens – I’m having fun along the way. I feel successful already. (Most days). I’m tearing forward and I don’t see my momentum dying anytime soon. But each milestone, every new achievement sets a new bar that must continually be surpassed. Four figures is no longer a huge deal. Sometimes I look into the future and I’m afraid that IT’S NEVER GOING TO BE ENOUGH.”

 There’s one more scrap of text on the canvas that I think’s important. I wrote it last night just before I finished the painting. “I won’t let me defeat me.”

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STATUS UPDATE for 4/21/14:

I wrote the statement for this piece three weeks ago but held off on sharing it until I had a good photograph of the painting to share. I’m really happy to report though that the weeks following what I’d describe as a painting “about ambition” have been some of my most successful. The rate at which I’m moving forward this month has been a little unbelievable. And while I’m definitely not going to allow myself to sit back, become complacent, or breathe too easily, I’m really happy with where I’m at today. I’ve been slacking on updating my blog regularly but this week should be a relatively quiet one, so – in the next few days – I’m going to spend a little time detailing this last (incredibly eventful) month. (Though anyone that follows me on Facebook probably already has a pretty good idea).

So far as basic/practical stuff (today) is concerned…
1) My exhibit at The Silver Cow has opened and closed.
2) Issues of Folio Weekly featuring the article about me are still on newsstands for another couple of days, in and around Jacksonville.
3) My original pieces are no longer on display anywhere in the city of Jacksonville but I have about two dozen different prints hanging (and for sale) at Burrito Gallery (21 E. Adams St.), probably for another two weeks or so.
4) My run in Jacksonville is officially over and I’m currently focusing on Delray Beach (for an as yet undetermined length of time). While here, I’ll be operating primarily out of/in conjunction with Ettra (149 NE 2nd Ave) and will have more details concerning that later in the week.
5) “The Future Scares the Sit Out of Me” is available as a 7×14″ print and is up now in the webstore; the original painting is already sold.

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