If you don't understand someone ... or something... you have no right to criticize it. If you don't take the time to ask the questions that need to be answered, they will come back to haunt you. If you cannot feel empathy for those around you... then your life will become increasingly small.  A lesson, I learned a long time ago... and then learned again.

This morning, while I painted... I listened to the same side of a Dylan record about 10 times... it just never gets old. When something's good... it's good forever. I like getting older. There are vast spaces between where I have been and where I am now. When I was a kid, I was sort of a smart-ass. I thought I knew everything... I enjoyed keeping up in conversation with my parents friends... I always thought I was just as smart as they were- just as adult. I would say that was only partially false. I have grown so much in this lifetime... but many of the things I loved and believed true when I was 5... are still the same. There is a comfort in that. Like a favorite pillow. This has little to do with my art... but everything to do with me. 

I have been a little drunk on paint for the last 12 hours. I had a hard time sleeping because I was so excited about the projects I'm working on... and as usual... my mind is already on to the next idea... and I have this urgency to finish what I've started so I can be on to the next thing... I think my heart speeds up when I get like this... I find myself moving around my apartment more quickly than normal and just acting slightly crazy... rushing between the sink and the table to wash out brushes and making a giant mess of my apartment and my self. This is what I LOVE about painting. I only slept for a few hours last night. I was up late... then woke early. When I'm in this mood... I really like the rain. There's something really warm and amazing about crouching over a painting... before the sun is up... the rainy cold air blowing in... a warm cup of coffee. I could do that forever. Sometimes I do. Today I went into work late just to try to finish some things up. Luckily my job is somewhat flexible that way. All I can think about is getting back in the studio. These are some things I am working on for an upcoming show... there never seems to be enough time... when I look back at photos like these... I can see everything still left undone... and I wish I could fix those things right now... instead of having to wait hours. I think that this evil is a necessary one. It keeps me wanting.

It's been a while since I sat still long enough to blog... or paint for that matter. I have a lot of people that follow my work here and a few that just follow me. 

Some say that technology brings out the worst in people. I would disagree. Like any tool, it is only am amplifier. I suppose I'm talking in circles if you don't know much about what's been going on in my life lately... but I will say this... I wish people would spend more time looking up instead of sideways and down. 

Tonight I have a date with myself. Finally! My paints and I have been shooting each other deep meaningful glances for a couple of weeks now. I am working on a few things for an upcoming show at Studio 204... more info on the opening etc. coming soon. I also submitted for Red Hot Arts Festival http://redhotart.org/ late last week... I'm hoping this year it's not 100 degrees and 200% humidity like it was last year... one weekend of that in a tent was enough. 

Have you heard of this? http://northernspark.org/ 

... 

i have only been living in minneapolis for 2.5 years now... i realized a couple of days ago, that my studio apartment is starting to feel like home. i can't really describe how bitter sweet a thing that is for me. i have comforts. fluffy pillows. my books. my paints. i like watching the squirrels out my window in the summer. most days i wake just as the sun is coming up... and i have a view that reminds me (even though i have never been there) of paris... rooftops of all heights dotted with chimneys ... their smoky plumes making patterns of all kinds... always different. 


isn't it interesting what home is. home is a place you feel safe. sometimes it is a tent, or a car, or a hotel room in a strange city... i have felt "at home" many times in my life when i was the furthest i could be from my actual residence... because of my company. more than once i have described love, as home. i suppose that is true in this instance as well. 

i live alone. for the first time in my life. when i moved in,  it felt tiny and lonely. i hated it. i think it was mostly because at that point i kind of hated myself... my situation. i didn't want to think about who i was and where i was... what my life had become.  it was a really hard time. now, i have loving memories of days in that space. i have learned to love it for what it is. a launching pad for where i am now in my life. i have spent so many hours in that apartment... painting and thinking...  slowly making a home...  a place to rest and reflect. home is something you can feel alone. i didn't think that was possible for a long time.  solitude can be healing. you can learn a lot when you have honest conversations with yourself. i know i have.