Happy birthday to me

happy birthday to me.  I have rings, pistons, wrist pins, and a sweet 72 sportster headlight on the way for my bike. I got glasses today.  Im officially an old fart, time to start living! knees in the breeze and whatnot.

Turning point

Doing some slightly different paintings than what Im used too.  Thinking about like searching and freedom and thingness blah blah blah.  Thinking about Raoul De Keyser. Dig them.

I love being a painter and making paintings, talking about paintings, figuring out paintings.  These things that are tough to give meaning to; that are so localized and about themselves. But when you finally see something for the first time, when you finally figure something out, life can get way more interesting and the struggle starts to make sense.  But only starts, and only for a while.

sometimes

I wonder what Im doing or why, how I ended up here and where Im going.
....And then sometimes Im in the studio, fully immersed in what Im doing, a painting or whatever and there is no question about what is next. Im a painter and Im exactly where I want to be, in the moment, in my head, but conscious and aware. 
Sometimes it snows and its nasty and terrible.  And sometimes it snows and I want to walk in it thinking "I was born for this shit"  today was like that too. 
Sometimes its also really easy to just slow down, paint one line in one hour.  Stop for three hours of the day and just listen to what people have to say. It should be easier more often. I want that in my work.  I want my paintings to be slow to look at, not necessarily loaded with explicit information, or history.  Just life slowed down I guess.  Life is so fast, I want my work to slow it down.
I am a painter and I couldnt really be any luckier.

paintings

Doing more work, class started this week, Im back in full swing.  First assignment is a series of 10 related paintings.  Its day 3 and I finished 3. Im having fun too.  Ill put em up in the order I did them, they are all relatively small, less than 21 inches by 21 inches

changes

cant settle... need a wassell tank and a headlight, also made the decision that Im only going to use used/ vintage parts or make everything myself, no catalog bike here.

More Paintings

Said I did more, well here they are. The pictures came out kind of dark.

getting somewhere

cut down the stock honda bars a little over 2 inches on each side and added an old bicycle sissy bar.  I can almost live with the honda mini tank temporarily now.

Actually have stuff to talk about

Started stripping my frame today. 
Got the rear section ready to weld, I notched the tubes out with a hacksaw.
I swear I change my mind every day with this bike.  I have a 21inch rim on the front that is my brother's, of course I need one now.  I got outbid on a Wassell tank on ebay.  Might go with a sporty tank, but thats coming in the summer when I can go to a swap and get one cheaper.  The only thing Im sure of right now is Im not going with anything I was going to do before! haha

Also managed to actually do some paintings over winter break. Got sick last week so I only finished one big one, but did a few small ones before Christmas.

AND last but not least I finally got the postcards I made for a show at THE LAB in San Francisco back... I actually sold 2 of them! They sent me a check for 4 bucks which means I sold 2 because they took 50% and I had them priced at 4 dollars each.  Stoked haha that was better than I thought Id do.

Happy New Year

California is calling again.  Her eternal majesty.  San Diego, Santa Ana, Los Angeles, Del Mar.  I think about the orange hills of Carlsbad, the dry wind that blows off the Pacific and how everything is just orange.  Tinted orange; the trees, the sky, the sand, everything.  Santa Monica, Venice Beach.  I think about the big sky above the pale basin of the San Fernando Valley and the hazy hills around Burbank.  I remember that little trailer that I stayed in just off interstate 5 on Palm Ave in Burbank and how I could have stayed there forever, showering under a hose in the morning under that unexplainable California sun.   I choke on the thought of all of that sunshine, all of that land, all of that faded sky.  It is paralyzing just to know that way out there the air is warm and the ocean is welcoming.   Anaheim, Pomona, West Hollywood, the way it is all packed together, it is waiting for me. I think about the streets I wandered in West Hollywood and the Barney’s where I played pool.  I travel up the coast.  Santa Barbara, San Louis Obispo, Big Sur- famous for the moon, just a blip on the map.  I want to know everything about that blip, I want to eat and breath that blip, see the moon from behind my closed eyelids underneath a sky of stars.  Monterey, Santa Cruz, the names are so pleasing to say- as warm as I imagine them to be.  Warm, and ancient.  Then to San Jose, and finally The Bay area: San Francisco, the end of the line.  The Old Frisco bay.  The bay city just waiting for the big one to come along and break it off into the Pacific where it will float away so coolly, no worries man.  I think about being born in the wrong place, 3 thousand miles from where I want to be.