This! 2026. Oil on paper, 18 x 24"
Some more paintings keeping me grounded in explosive spring. Tomorrow I’ll finish the big piece upstairs. During break time, I met a new next door neighbor. I was taking the garbage out dressed in my painting suit. He said “Oh, you paint, but not just houses!”. I said “Yes” it’s what I do. Then he said it was a nice hobby to have, but nobody wants paintings. Maybe they will in 100 years.
This is par for my course of life. I live in hell whenever I let myself out. I didn’t look at his clothes and guess a career choice. How could he imagine, in working class America, that an adult of this neighborhood would choose to be an artist? It must be a hobby. He assumes I’m retired, and took up painting to pass the time. That’s all anyone can think about art getting made ever, because I live on a street that exists in a bubble where freedom can only come from a hobby. Usually fishing, or refinishing a big boat.
I nodded, and commenced a brief lecture on having a sense of history, while holding the garbage. “They certainly will be valuable in 100 years,” I told him. “If not to the great wide world, then to my great grandchildren, who will want to know all about me.”
His name is Alex, and I think his hobby is carpenter because he was holding a hammer. But he wore a button down Oxford shirt, so maybe he plays free time as a financial advisor, or an insurance salesman. Maybe he’s a neat painter, but then he’s surely retired, and there is nothing else left to do...
What I Did Here is Way Out of Line for Paper 2026. Oil on paper, 18 x 24"
One Design, No Noses 2026. Oil on paper, 18 x 24"
A Star In Space 2026. Oil on paper, 18 x 24"
Beans Sowing Beans 2026. Oil on paper, 18 x 24"
