The Boy Nobody Wanted Wins the Super Bowl

July 31, 2024

“The Boy Nobody Wanted Wins the Super Bowl” 7/26/24. acrylic paint. 36×36″.

“Stick with me and I’ll pay off someday.”

That’s a lyric from The Copyrights’ “Keep Me in the Dark.” It’s one that’s resonated with me since it was released fifteen years ago. 

I have a lot of core beliefs about myself and all but one of them are negative. The one, good one is that I’m smart. I’ve been told and I’ve seen objective proof of it all throughout my life, going back as far as I can remember. Because of that, I always believed growing up that I’d be successful no matter what. Even when I was in high school and totally fucking off and getting terrible grades. Even when I got fucked up the night before SATs and blew them off by not showing and never rescheduling. I still believed on some level that I’d wind up at a prestigious college. And sure enough – despite a total lack of financial support or connections of any kind – I finished my education with a Juris Doctor at Georgetown Law. Granted, I did eventually start working hard to earn that when I was at a community college, but still.

That kind of positive reinforcement – that I’m always going to succeed (eventually) – might not have been the best thing for me. It hurts to admit it but I’ve been through quite a few relationships since “stick with me and I’ll pay off someday” and – quite arguably – I have not. Not in a financial sense anyway. Not for good. Maybe here and there. Certainly not now.

I am “the boy nobody wanted” (as far as I’m concerned). Whether or not I’m going to “win the super bowl” (in the sense alluded to by the preceding paragraphs) remains to be seen. And it’s the subject of some controversy in my life at the moment. (That is to say, the question of whether or not I can support a family or even myself). But in another, more immediate sense, I have won the super bowl.

I don’t generally like to borrow from other people’s art, but I made an exception in the case of this painting.

Bart Simpson is trying to be a part of his family’s Thanksgiving. He’s also arguably trying to be the center of attention but the key fact is that he wants to participate. And in doing so, he accidentally destroys an elaborate centerpiece that Lisa had made for the family’s Thanksgiving table. His parents scold him. His mom says he’s “ruined Thanksgiving.” He’s sent to his room. Feeling that he’s the victim of a great injustice, he declares that he doesn’t care about or need his family and he sneaks out his bedroom window.

After a day out in the city on his own, he returns home and imagines the reception he’ll get. Even though his family has been worried sick about him and just want him safely back home, Bart imagines walking in the front door only to be chastised and shamed further. Again, he responds to (what he perceives as) his family’s rejection of him by declaring that he doesn’t need his family but – having nowhere else to go – he climbs up onto the house’s roof. Once up there, he finds a trove of forgotten toys. Balls, frisbees, water rockets, and more that were lost when they went too high and got stuck on the roof. He’s thrilled and begins playing by himself. Tossing a football into the air and running to the other side of the roof to catch it, he shouts (as the balls lands in his hands), “The boy nobody wanted JUST, WON, THE SUPER BOWL!!!” Bart is achingly self-conscious, feels unloved – tolerated at best – and alone. But in this moment, despite all that, he’s found a little bit of joy.

That’s how I felt as I painted this. I can’t even express in words how I felt many times in the last few weeks as I worked on this piece. Taking a step back and examining my work, I was filled with such joy. Pride. Really, a kind of awe. I love the way this painting looks and that was the case for much of the process. Often enough, it’s quite some time before I start to really like the way one of my pieces looks. But so many little, inconsequential details that (I’m sure) very few people will ever even notice in this painting, made me so happy. The contrast between two neighboring swaths of color. The expression on one of my little “creatures’” faces. The pattern in some area. The texture of a background. These things delighted me.

It’s always great when someone else appreciates my art but I’m so grateful that I’m my own biggest fan. That I’ve found something that can make me so happy. And that it’s something that I make myself. It doesn’t exist without me. That’s a pretty great feeling.

Rejection – even just perceived rejection – hurts, for sure. And on some level, I always have and always will feel like “the boy nobody wanted.” And so far as the rest of the world’s concerned – yeah – I’ve not won anything close to a super bowl. But I also know that all the financial or material success in the world won’t fix that feeling in me that I’m “the boy nobody wanted.” Money’s not gonna make that go away. But so long as I can get a few wins – even alone, up on my roof – hey, things could be worse.

“Keep Me in the Dark” by The Copyrights – referenced at the beginning of this blog entry.


Check it out! 👆 The webstore is up and running, which means it’s now easier than ever to support YOUR FAVORITE ARTIST 😜 and get your very own, limited-edition print. Check the product page for more info or just browse through the whole shop.

In a RARE TWIST(!) though, the original painting hasn’t yet sold. (At least not as of the time of this writing). Contact me if you’re interested. 😎

11/8/14 status update

November 8, 2014

I’ve neglected my blog for so long that it’s hard to know where to start. While anyone who follows me on Facebook is pretty up to date with the gruesome details of what’s going on in my life, here’s the gist of it for anyone who’s not up to speed:

  • I moved in with a girl in Chicago in July. We broke up in August.
  • A day and a half later, I started seeing another girl in Chicago. That lasted three months, until Thursday, when I finally left.
  • I love the girl but the relationship was incredibly dysfunctional and it had me more fucked up, twisted around, confused, depressed, anxious, and suicidal than I’ve been since December 2012.
  • While I’ve neglected writing the statements for my artwork, I’ve still been actively creating new pieces. The lack of updates can be accounted for by (1) not having had the new pieces photographed yet, (2) not having their statements written, and (3) the fact that these new pieces are HUGE and the last two have each taken more than a month to complete.
  • My charges are still pending and still stressing me out but I’m still (sort of) optimistic that some kind of a resolution can be reached – or at least resigned to accept the punishment that’s being offered as part of the plea deal that’s currently on the table.
  • As the weather got colder in Chicago, I saw a dramatic decrease in my print sales when I’d go downtown to set up, paint, and sell. Consequently, my income this last month is lower than it’s been since January, which is stressing me out but not killing me.
  • I desperately needed to get out of Chicago to escape my shitty relationship, so I’m in St. Louis now. On November 22nd, I’ll go to Minneapolis for the Rivethead reunion. On November 24th, I’ll return to Normal/Bloomington, IL for my next court date. From there, I’m not sure what I’ll do but if I have to accept the plea deal, I’ll be put on two years probation and will need to choose a state to serve it out in, since my movement will be restricted and I’ll have to be physically present for monthly check-ups. My art career would warrant that I choose either New York or California but I would probably have to choose Florida for the sake of my mental health, as that’s where I’ve got the most emotional support. In theory, I would be able to apply for travel permits to leave the state for my “job” (for example, to go to Minneapolis for my exhibition in March).
  • When I left Chicago on Thursday, I left without Chris Spillane. It was six months ago that I petitioned the court to have him picked up by police and put into detox and six months since I picked him up from detox and brought him out on the road with me. He now has six months clean, a job, a place to live, and everything else that could be reasonably expected of relatively well-balanced kid of our ilk. When I return to Illinois for my court date at the end of the month, he’ll have the option to rejoin me but I suspect that he’s gonna keep on in Chicago, building up his new life.
  • In September, I started seeing a psychiatrist in Chicago. In October, she put me back on antipsychotic and antidepressant medications (in addition to the Adderall that I’ve been on for ten years). The last time I was on antidepressants was as an inpatient at Tranquil Shores in February 2013. The last time I was on antipsychotics was (I think) as an inpatient at the Wellness Resource Center in February 2012, though I almost went back on them in January 2013.
  • In addition to the psychiatrist in Chicago, I’ve also started meeting once weekly (via Skype or Facetime) with Tracy, my counselor from Tranquil Shores.
  • Anxiety and depression destroyed my appetite the last month or so and I’m skinnier than I’ve been in at least twelve years. That’s good because I have body dysmorphic disorder and being this thin makes me feel good about myself. It’s bad ’cause… I don’t know… ’cause people say it’s bad…?

1182014

I have no idea how this all comes across as a whole but here’s what I think should be the important point to take away from it all: October was a bad month but – here, in St. Louis – I am safe, and cared for, and feeling eight million times better. I am no longer suicidally depressed and though I am afraid of what will happen once I leave St. Louis in two weeks, I am okay and I am once again grateful.

I’m going to spend the day with my current work-in-progress, possibly do some layout work for a new flier or work on written statements for finished pieces, and – tonight – I’m going to go downtown to see Rational Anthem play with The Copyrights and The Murderburgers.

If you wanna buy some art right now, that’d be pretty great.

Living in Shit with The Copyrights (Song Stories #1)

October 12, 2013

If you’re anything like me (and for your sake, I hope the similarities start and end right here) certain songs trigger memories for you. On our drive down from Jacksonville, late Thursday night, I had the iPod on shuffle and a few songs came up that I hadn’t heard in a while but gave me an idea that I thought might make for a cool series of entries on the website. Here’s the first in my (remarkably cleverly titled) series of Song Stories.

Song: “Prove Me Wrong” by The Copyrights
Time: June 2012
Place: Miami, FL

—–

It backed up. From wall to wall, the floor in our little shitbox of an apartment was now seeped in toilet water. And yeah – when I say “toilet water,” I’m talking about a lot more than water. We had no cleaning supplies and no car to get to the store. Normally, I’m happy to walk but this was Miami in June and I was in the midst of heroin withdrawals. I felt about as awful as a human being can feel. Besides, we didn’t have any money to buy cleaning supplies anyway. And you can fucking bet that – whatever money we were going to scam up – it sure as shit wasn’t going to pay for paper towels and Lysol. I did the same thing any “sensible” person would do in my position: I took the comforter off the bed and threw it on the floor. It stayed there like that until we left town a few weeks later.

I hated being in that apartment. Actually, to call it an “apartment” paints too grand of a picture. It was a fucking room. And it felt more like a coffin. I felt trapped all day and night around the clock. I wished I were dead. But I wasn’t going to walk out the door for anything. Anything but drugs.

My memory’s a little hazy but if things were as I remember, I’m too ashamed to spill all of the details. You don’t really need to know the source of the money anyway. Suffice to say it was a process that involved more than one felony and ended with a Moneygram or Western Union transfer. I braved the outside world to go pick up the cash, so I could hop a train to Overtown and finally get some heroin. Not enough to overdose and kill myself (what a sweet dream that would have been; I fantasized about it constantly) but enough to make the hurt go away for a few hours. That was enough. I calculated the exact minute that I could expect the money to be ready and left so as to arrive just in time.

But it wasn’t ready. I waited. And waited. And waited. And it still hadn’t come in. Because the people that I was counting on to send it were also drug addicts and – you know – they’ve got their own schedules.

So I sat on the sidewalk outside of the CVS, calling and texting, trying to find out when the money would become available. It started to rain. And I just sat there, clinging to my hope that they would eventually come through. I shook and shivered and sweated. I prayed not to be recognized – after all, this was the same CVS where I’d steal $80 boxes of allergy medication which I’d then return to Publix or Walgreens for store credit. (On the rare occasions that I ate, this was one of the ways that I got food). I’d have walked down the street and looked suspicious elsewhere but I just didn’t have it in me to care that much. It all hurt just a little more than I could stand. Sitting there in the rain… I don’t know… maybe I was paralyzed or maybe I was punishing myself. Maybe I enjoyed my squalor and tragedy on some sick, stupid, self-destructive level.

In any case, that was my evening. And as I sat on that stupid fucking sidewalk in the rain, I listened to music on her phone. The battery was low and I shouldn’t have done anything to speed that process up but I couldn’t help it. Those songs, my songs, were all that kept me from laying down in traffic some days. There was one that stuck out and that I’ll forever associate with that night.

I told you there was a time back then when I still believed
You asked “believed in what” and I said “in anything”
Well the world’s still spinning, and we’re still grinning with cold drinks in our hands
But you’re grading on a curve while we’re sitting on a curb in a cold and callous land

And you tell me there was a time I’d laugh at this dramatic trash
That was coming out of my mouth after too much sour mash
I say the world only spins when I shut my eyes and it goes too fucking fast
But then I’m free to dream about the frequent smiles of a not-too-distant past

You will always run into creeps like me
Who love to swim and drown in negativity
But we want you to strongly disagree
Ignore all the surface signs and prove me wrong

Reminds me when I first saw the Pacific in a sunset glow
Or when we came through the Holland Tunnel for our first New York Show
But if the winners like these are fewer and further between now
The losers like us are too stubborn to ever forget how
to compare and contrast to the best of days
in competitive, unfair, and bullshit ways
instead of just putting our arms around someone we love
you gotta let it go

Please make sure to remind us
Our best days are not behind us

—–

“Prove Me Wrong” by The Copyrights comes from the compilation LP, “The Thing That Ate Larry Livermore.” You can buy the LP from Interpunk. And (I was under the impression that it was only released on vinyl but) it looks like you can also get it on CD from It’s Alive.

Tour photos / wrap up

August 21, 2013

After the show in Valdosta (which was just Rational Anthem and Johnathan Coody of Ninja Gun), I drove the van back to my place in Jacksonville, where we spent the night. The rest of the crew left around noon and I’ve spent the day kind of catching up around here. Did some yardwork, started to replace the blurry images (in all of my posts made from the road) with high-res ones. I should have that done by tomorrow, at which point I’ll also add them all to the Gallery page.

I don’t take a lot of photos, but here’s what I got.

The floor of the van. We are children.
The floor of the van. We are children.

This firework had no fuse, but I figured if we enveloped the whole thing in fire, that ought to do the trick. Zack gathered up some junk mail and made it happen.
This firework had no fuse, but I figured if we enveloped the whole thing in fire, that ought to do the trick. Zack gathered up some junk mail and made it happen.

Here's the aftermath. We set it off underneath an awning in front of a business, rather than in the street. Because we're real smart guys.
Here’s the aftermath. We set it off underneath an awning in front of a business, rather than in the street. Because we’re real smart guys.

Lipstick Homicide's front porch. I just really like that skateboard.
Lipstick Homicide’s front porch. I just really like that skateboard.

I was pretty bummed when my huge Evan Wolff poster got thrown out when I got evicted (while in rehab) in December 2011. Evan's playing in Tight Bros now though, so I saw him all weekend and he traded me a new poster for an "I Can't Compete With Harry Potter" print.
I used to have a different one until it got thrown out while I was away in rehab in December 2011. Evan‘s playing in Tight Bros now though, so I saw him all weekend and he traded me a *new* poster for an “I Can’t Compete With Harry Potter” print.

I lucked into two awesome trades in one night. Brett didn't have anything on him in Des Moines, but The Heat Tape were on the Carbondale show, so I let him snag my "I Don't Go Out Much" cartoon in Iowa and he brought me these the next night in Illinois.
Two rad trades in one night. Brett didn’t have anything with him in Des Moines (where Rational played with The Copyrights), but The Heat Tape were on the bill in Carbondale, so I let him snag my “I Don’t Go Out Much” cartoon in Iowa and he brought me these the next night in Illinois. (Going on tour / punk rock is awesome).

St. Louis.
Driving into St. Louis.

I was down the street from the Triple Rock (not especially dressed) when Mike Cranberry walked up with a ridiculous leather jacket and told me to try it on. Because I didn't look like enough of a creep to begin with.
I was down the street from the Triple Rock (not especially dressed) when Mike Cranberry walked up with a ridiculous leather jacket and told me to try it on. Because I didn’t look like enough of a creep to begin with.

I guess that’s it for now. But speaking of Mike…

And if you’re tired of my nonsense, those links in the photo captions will take you to Brett and Evan’s websites, which both have a bunch of their art online.

More tomorrow!

Iowa

August 20, 2013

Things got a little hectic yesterday morning. I’m going to try to tell this story, which involves other people, while keeping the focus mostly on myself. I’ve never stated so explicitly but there’s a reason I do that and it’s not because I think I’m such a fascinating character. Letting my focus shift to other people would make for better storytelling but less effective mental health exercise. When it comes to my well-being, the things that other people think, say, and do are irrelevant. Really, they have nothing to do with me and are none of my business (or at least none of my concern).

The Lipstick Homicide and Bloated Kat houses are about a block apart, so our crew was split between them for the night. It was about time for us to get on the road from Iowa City to Carbondale when Noelle called me and said she needed my help. “It’s nothing bad or serious, is it?”

“Andrea broke up with me and is driving back to Florida without Jessica.”

Since 2008, Rational Anthem has had an incredibly sensible rule: no girlfriends on tour. Relationship problems are bad enough on their own, but when they come up on tour, they become the whole band’s problem. This trip though wasn’t quite a tour and an exception was made. Noelle’s girlfriend rented a car to drive up to Dave Strait Fest, but also to stop along the way up and back for two of the shows Rational was playing between Florida and Minneapolis. In the car with her was a friend of Noelle’s (and – at one point – possibly of Andrea’s as well).

What happened isn’t important. There was now bad blood and Andrea didn’t want to drive back to Florida with the other girl.

Rational Anthem has three members. Their van has four seats. I was along for the whole trip and Zack’s summer in Minneapolis was over, so he was hitching a ride with us back home to Florida.

I walked over to the house and sat down with Andrea. I offered a couple different ideas/options that might make her more receptive to driving back with Jessica in tow, as planned. She wasn’t having it.

There was a point in my life where I was so desperate to be perceived as a “winner” – as someone capable of pulling any trick or fixing any problem – that I would have pulled whatever emotionally manipulative bullshit was necessary to get those two girls in the car together and back on the road to Florida. But that’s not me anymore. Andrea was hurting and I felt for her. Whatever happened to spark the conflict didn’t really matter to me. Two (or three) people can have radically different versions of a story and neither’s is wrong. Perception *is* reality. If Noelle or Jessica were mean to Andrea, if it was all in Andrea’s head – it didn’t make any difference. Emotions are more powerful than facts. I didn’t care about the problem, only the solution.

The rental car was in Andrea’s name. On paper, the call was hers. Could she have been coaxed into taking Jessica and making life easier for the other people involved? Probably. But I consider Andrea a friend and – it’s a little strange but – my empathy was stronger than my need to be the clever problem-solver. It’s strange because I’m not sure that’s ever happened before. I wasn’t willing to do anything to keep her from doing what she felt she needed to in order to feel okay.

I gave Andrea a hug and told Jessica she’d have to take a bus from Iowa to Florida. Not because she did something wrong (I don’t know or care whether or not she did) but because that was simply the situation we were in. Unfortunate but… things are as they are.

Jessica said she didn’t know what she had done wrong. I said that I didn’t either, but that it didn’t matter. She was upset (and reasonably enough so). Not being the type of itinerant punk rock fuck-up that so many of us are, a bus trip from Iowa to Florida was going to be a new kind of experience for her. I did my best to remain calm, compassionate, and supportive, and to alleviate any fears, but it didn’t go over much better than my initial proposals to Andrea. Jessica asked if she could go in the van with Rational Anthem and someone else could take a bus or ride back with Andrea.

Chris, Noelle, and I walked back to the other house. Chris wanted to keep the group intact as it was. Noelle said she felt bad about the situation Jessica was in so she was okay with Zack or I heading back with Andrea – so long as we were. I didn’t like that option, but was willing to do whatever seemed to make the most sense. Zack was too. I saw Andrea’s hurt, but there was hurt all over the place and I’d do just about anything for Noelle at this point. She’s my friend and – besides – I owe it to her. For all the times when I haven’t been a good friend to her. For all the times when the only thing she could really count on me doing was making trouble myself.

As it turned out, Andrea returned
the car in Iowa and made other plans. The five of us decided to hit the road as initially planned.

"Iowa." 8/19/13. Watercolor, marker, and pen. 9x12".
“Iowa.” 8/19/13. Watercolor, marker, and pen. 9×12″.

This was finished later that afternoon but drawn mostly the night before, on the way to (and at) the show in Des Moines (which was The Copyrights, Lipstick Homicide, Rational Anthem, Tight Bros, and a few others). The text is basically journaling about the situation and some other stuff that was on my mind at one point or another.

The text that stands out most to me says, “What’s to come is what matters. We roll with the punches. We’ll do whatever it is that we have to do.” It’s kind of about what is as well as what should be. Or maybe just what is when we’re at our best. Human beings, I mean.

I’m really grateful for the fact that – even when I thought it might mean that I’d have to go home early – the thought never occurred to me that I should go back and try to talk Andrea into taking Jessica after all.

And I’m grateful that I’m still here with four of my friends. And grateful that I’m finally able to treat my friends the way a friend should.

Whatevermind

August 18, 2013

Says: “I don’t accept what you consider fact, truth, or reality. But I do believe in freedom right now. And I’m gonna do my best to try to be happy. I’ll let you know how it works out.”

It was in response to being told that – what I’m doing / how I’m living – is okay for now but will have to end really soon. That I’ll need to get a real job or learn to draw boardwalk caricatures.

"Whatevermind." 5/12/13. Pen. 9x10¼".
“Whatevermind.” 5/12/13. Pen. 9×10¼”.

I drew this “for” the insert for (Rational Anthem’s) Whatevermind LP, but decided that it didn’t fit and – beyond that – almost seemed antithetical to it.

Actually, I just remembered: this didn’t start out as an expressive piece, I had something in mind, but I made a mistake (and since I was using ink, I couldn’t correct it) so I just worked around it and it turned into this.

We’re en route to Des Moines. Show tonight should be good. Rational, Copyrights, Tight Bros, and Lipstick Homicide. Kind of strange though: doors at 4, show at 5, and it’s 21+.

Found out The Heat Tape got added to the show tomorrow in Carbondale. Their album was my favorite thing on the planet that first week in Sarasota to make “No Real Than You Are.” It was actually when one of those songs came up in my headphones and I didn’t immediately feel great that I knew something was wrong. I wanted the feeling back – the one that I had gotten, riding around town listening to that album just a few days earlier. Raccoon Valley Recordings (and my response to it) were literally my mental health gauge.

Info for this week’s shows (part 1)

August 13, 2013

On the road with my favorite band for the next 8 days. Come watch awesome bands and smoke cigarettes with me! (Maybe we’ll even have some generic sports drink!) I get pretty wild, you guys.

I’m posting from my phone so… apologies if my “presentation” is a little sloppier than usual.

Tomorrow, 8/14: St Louis
https://www.facebook.com/events/560132427378218/

Thursday, Friday, Saturday: DSF
https://www.facebook.com/fdsfest

Sun, 8/18: Des Moines
https://www.facebook.com/events/177409535770042/

Mon, 8/19: Carbondale
I don’t have the link… It’s with Future Virgins… more info TBA. (Noelle has the info, I think, but she’s not actually with us ’cause she’s a rock star who doesn’t ride in the van with Chris, Pete, and I).

Tue, 8/20: Valdosta
Same story. It’s at Red Room Records with Johnathan Coody (Ninja Gun) though. More info TBA.

Wed, 8/21: Tallahassee, Gainesville, or Orlando
This hasn’t been booked yet so more info TBD (and then A).

Archives

© 2012-2024

Gallery · Blog · $ · Info · Contact

WordPress Di Blog Theme