I was having a pretty good night anyway (improvisational, my favorite kind) hitting the Eastside galleries, catching up with friends, nursing a bourbon at a local watering hole whilst scribbling notes for the show's big patter number--when out of the blue, I got blindsided by this breathtaking painting by Gary Taxali:
Could I afford it? Um...no. "Volume is down," as my agent is wont to say these days, and residuals aren't money in the bank until...well, until they're money in the bank.
But this damned thing started screaming at me from across the room. Nay, worse--it was whispering softly, the bastard! That hasn't happened for awhile with a costly piece of art (thank jeezus), but I've learned the hard way to listen to The Voice. So there are less something-or-others (steaks? shoes? heat?) for awhile. So be it.
Connection is everything. I've been a little out of touch with two-dimensional art as a form of connection.
It's nice to be back in the pool.
xxx
c