I cringe as I reread this. What a cry baby. Too bad. I'm feelin' it. Maybe someone who's feeling the same will feel better knowing there's another sad sack out there. Maybe I'm just tired. I want to pull a Thoreau and just go live in a cabin in solitude for two years. Yes, I'd say I better get some sleep.
I read in the New York Times that André 3000 of Outkast was recounting how Prince told him the following:
“When you come back, people want to be wowed.
And what’s the best way to wow people?
Just give them the hits.”
I’m explaining to him that I really didn’t want to do it.
He said: “I’ve been there. I’ve tried to do other things.
After you give them the hits, then you can do whatever.”
Well, I idolize Prince. I should take his advice. I should paint some cute, happy, approachable pictures. Uh, huh. Instead I'm feeling like Irish-born/British figurative painter, Francis Bacon.
This painting started out as a long, pissed-off balloon face with super squinty eyes and a hand flippin' the bird. I tried to calm it down. I feel like I have to censor myself so I don't get all sorts of labels thrown my way. Shall I say, dear world, UGH again? I see my future...I'll die from inhalation of toxic fumes from oil paints, both inhaled and absorbed through my skin which is always smeared with something (hmm, that doesn't sound good), lying on the ground outside of 6 storage units, filled with all my paintings. See? I AM in a bad mood. This dude doesn't look nearly as angry as I started out feeling. Guess the music I was listening to helped me to get out of my funk.
12" x 24"
Oil, Acrylic, Ink, Ground Pastel, Frustration on Canvas
My music to try to get out of this funky funk:
Violent Femmes - "Add It Up"
Iggy Pop & The Stooges - "Search and Destroy"