Free from Expectations, Shoes, and Toothpaste

I don’t like to paint stuff that’s not a canvas but I’l do it if you pay me enough money. For this bowl, I revisited the concept from my original painting, “Free From Shoes, Expectations, and Toothpaste.”

In my first run as an artist –  before everything fell apart and I took a 9-year hiatus from painting (and life) – I had a relatively easy time going from zero to sixty and making a living off my funny faces and scribbles.

But whether it’s ‘cause of the borderline personality disorder (or whatever else), even minor road bumps can leave me totally dejected.

It was April 2013 and I’d sold art at three events: the first successful; the next two not. It was the morning of my fourth and I was feeling very discouraged and like I shouldn’t even bother. I didn’t wanna get dressed, brush my teeth, and drive up to this thing only to feel totally rejected. 

It was then that I had an epiphany. I don’t have to get dressed or make myself presentable. Wearing the shorts I slept in, I could just hop in the car and – yes – set my shit up at the market, but just spend the day painting. Who cares if I look like a grimy little shit and no one buys anything? I’ll still be spending the day doing something I love. 

I decided to expect nothing – no sales, no positive attention – just nothing from anyone but myself. And I wouldn’t care how I looked or what people thought of me. I didn’t have to hide the parts of my body I was more self-conscious of by putting on a shirt or shoes. And I didn’t need to brush my teeth before I left. (I could just do that when I got home later). Not giving a shit about how I looked or whether or not I was gonna make any money felt awesome. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I felt FREE. Like this huge weight had been lifted from me.

When I ultimately did sell a ton of art that day, it was like a confirmation from the universe that I’d made the right choice – that this was the approach to take.


I’ve been going through my print inventory and pulling the stuff that doesn’t represent me as I’d like to be represented. A lot of those pieces still resonate with me; they just don’t look good. So I’m taking old concepts and putting them into new paintings and drawings.

That’s something I wouldn’t have done in the past. I thought that every piece of art was sort of a sacred artifact that should exist exactly as it did when I first made it. But reusing a concept doesn’t erase the old artwork. It just means it’s also a part of something new. I’ve always thought it was sort of hacky when artists reused concepts repeatedly but this isn’t that. It’s not that black and white. I can recycle an idea into something better and it doesn’t mean I’m some one-hit-wonder just playing the same song again and again. Upcycling a few old things that I love isn’t the same as churning out a thousand variations of my one “hit” piece.

Although – even if I was doing that: who gives a shit? As long as I’m doing what I wanna do – fuck everything else.

I’m glad I chose to upcycle the concept from “Free/Toothpaste” for this bowl I was commissioned to paint because it’s been a great reminder that I need to GET FREE. I need to not worry so much about all this shit and just make art. Whatever art I want. And it doesn’t matter if I reuse an old concept or it’s not THE GREATEST THING I’VE EVER MADE. So long as it looks cool, is real, and meaningful, that’s enough. (Especially for a small, commissioned, piece of art).


Following what happened to me in 2015, I’m having trouble fully subscribing to my (once) guiding principle – that “everything works out exactly as it should.” But I think everything works out – at least a lot better – when I do. When I just have faith that things will work out, so long as I’m doing my best.

Although that probably still includes brushing my teeth periodically.


I’m calling this piece: “Free from Expectations, Shoes, and Toothpaste” and adding it to my inventory as a 4×6-inch print, as a replacement for “Free (From Shoes, Expectations, and Toothpaste),” which will no longer be available for purchase. I mean, if you really fucking love the old one for some reason, I still have a few prints, so hit me up and I’ll sell you one, but the new one is much cooler and easily available in the webstore.

And seeing as it’s December 12th, let’s go ahead and throw out a promo code for Christmas and Hanukkah. Use the promo code CH1320 to get 20% off any order, now through the end of Hanukkah (the last day of which is January 2nd). Cool? Coooooool.

As always, thanks for reading.


Free (From Shoes, Expectations, and Toothpaste)

"Free (From Expectations, Shoes, and Toothpaste)." 4/28/13. Acrylics on canvas. 29x36".
“Free (From Shoes, Expectations, and Toothpaste).” 4/28/13. Acrylics on canvas. 29×36″.

In late February, I went to Crafty Fest at Artpool to try and sell some of my pieces. It went really well. The first week of April, I went to Indie Market in downtown St. Pete and it was a bust. A few weeks later, I went back to Crafty Fest, but this time to do both days instead of just one.

On the first day, my table was not well-positioned and I got badly sunburned relatively early in. I left my table and sat under someone else’s tent. It didn’t really matter; no one seemed to give a shit anyway. So I sat a ways away, painting as I spied on the people that would stop to look at my stuff. When someone smiled, laughed, and really stopped to look at more than a couple of my pieces, I’d walk over and start to talk to them.

One woman really liked a lot of them. When she told me she really wanted to remember the details so she could tell her friends later, I hinted that if she were to buy one, she wouldn’t have to worry about remembering it. What a concept! She asked about the price on one and – given how poorly things were going – I aimed low. Really low. “Twenty dollars,” I said. “Oh my!” she responded, “I could never spend that much! I just paid ten dollars for two chairs!”

I’m not really sure what chairs have to do with art, but that’s the story of how I brokenly sold a piece for $6.12. The only sale of the day.

I was not excited to go back for day two. That first art fair had gone really well, but this was now two in a row that had not.

That morning I woke up wondering why I was going to bother driving out to do this. “Fuck brushing my teeth, fuck putting on shoes, fuck doing anything to get ready or look presentable. I’ll go and I’ll expect nothing. I’ll spend the day painting.”

So that’s how I approached it and, right away, it felt pretty great. I had become a lot less concerned with others’ perceptions of me since my most recent (and only successful) stint in treatment, but this was a step forward still. And not giving a shit about whether or not anyone would buy any of my art – here (on this day) or ever again – it was a relief. “If there’s no market for my art – fuck it,” I decided, “that’s not why I do it anyway. It was an exciting prospect that making art (something I’m going to do no matter what) might also be something that’d free me from having to wash dishes or bag groceries for the rest of my life, but if that doesn’t work out, it won’t be the end of the world. Whenever I make something new, I’ll just give it to a friend or anyone else that wants it – and then figure out some other way to pay bills. I mean, this whole painting thing is new to me. It’s not like being an artist has been my lifelong dream.”

Things didn’t go as awfully as I prepared for. I sold quite a few pieces and made a good deal of money. That meant my street-sales record was now 2-2 and my hope / optimism concerning the possibility of art saving me from less fulfilling “work” was renewed. And the experience was even more successful in terms of the quality of time spent painting and the lessons I learned regarding acceptance and expectations.

I can be filthy and paint pictures as I smoke cigarettes barefoot on downtown sidewalks… I can do whatever it is that I do, and … that’s it. Things work out.

And I’m not talking about people appreciating my paintings and buying them. (That’s just a bonus). The best moment of the day was before any of that happened. It was the moment I realized that I was no longer dreading the day to come. It was the moment that I felt free of expectations. The moment that I felt free period.

The original painting is sold but limited edition prints may still be available.


I Wish I Could Get Everyone to Stop Waiting

"I Wish I Could Get Everyone to Stop Waiting." 6/7/13. Tempera and pencil on paper, cut up and rearranged. 12x12".

“I Wish I Could Get Everyone to Stop Waiting.” June 7th, 2013. Tempera and pencil on paper, cut up and rearranged. 12×12”.

This was the last piece I made in my Wednesday night “Art of Recovery” group, before moving to Jacksonville.

The text says, “I wish I could get everyone to stop waiting. They’d rather die than try something new and risk being happy.” It’s about the people in my life caught in patterns of addiction, codependency/enabling, and other kinds of mental illness. Or, rather, it’s about my own frustration in not being able to help/change/save them. It’s about the way we have a tendency to think things like, “Once [this] happens, then I can do [that], and THEN I’ll be happy.”

I know that if I can’t be happy now, regardless of my current situation, there’s nothing that could happen that will make me happy. Happiness comes from within and has nothing to do with external factors outside of my own control. In that sense, this piece is very much an echo of the sentiment (as I’ve interpreted it anyway) in the opening song on one of my favorite records. The chorus is: “What does your dream home look like? It’ll take you years to even tell, and I’ll be sleeping well, here in hell.”

This statement isn’t from June. I just wrote it. So I still know these things, it’s just that I’m having trouble applying them. I’m gonna give it my best shot today.


Two wheels, one dark lord (also: yardwork, pizza, and new Dead North)

Wrecking the day in the best way possible. Finished inputting the details for all of the pieces in the gallery so far (and added a new one). Well, new to the site. A cartoon called “Dear Diary” from back in March. The link will bring up the piece in the gallery and you can scroll down for the statement. I think it’s appropriate for this week.

Otherwise, I cleaned up around here and got organized. Had done some maintenance stuff on the scooter the other day and I put the panels back on this morning – but not before repainting one of ’em. Nothing new really. Just re-colored it. Here’s version 3.0:
scooter

And, with that, I’m gonna go take advantage of my yardwork-in-exchange-for-pizza arrangement. Wanna know what I’ll be listening to as I do it?

“Teenagers,” the debut full-length from Dead North. If I’m not mistaken, this thing will be out on vinyl soon from John Wilkes Booth Records (and it might be a split release with Hip Kid Records too… I forget). Oh – and word on the street is that they recorded it with Bobby at Paper Tiger (and formerly of New Creases!) which would explain why it sounds so great. In any case, thanks to Jon Rob for the heads up!  If, like me, you didn’t realize that this thing was online already, check it out ’cause it’s really great.