BLACK AND WHITE

SOUL FOOD, MUSIC, HOT WINGS

I made this little watercolor over a stretch of two mornings while drinking coffee. One thing I like about the summer is the earlier sunrise time. I've discovered that whether or not the sun is up has a huge influence on my schedule. Right now, it's easy to motivate myself to get up early so I can paint and listen to the radio before work, but in the middle of winter? Forget it. In the summer I can go until 8:30 without eating dinner because the sun is still up, but in December, I want to eat at 4:30.

Anyway. This is Wild Bill's. A very small (but long) bar on the fringes of Midtown Memphis. It does several things well. Hamburgers, live music, and dancing. I used to go occasionally with a pack of friends during holiday breaks from college. The last time I was there, the cover was $10. Seemingly steep, but completely worth it. The band may be the same every week, but at least I knew they'd be good.

I've also been plugging away on some new ideas, works in progress, and other things. They'll appear here soon. I lost a roll of film to a technical snafu. The film advance wasn't catching the second time I loaded it, so the roll I was working on in New York will never be. I didn't feel the lack of tension while photographing until it was too late. I'm temped to develop the film, but I know what's there. 24 pictures of Kudzu, and one frame with the other 24 pictures that were supposed to expose over the entire roll. Oh well. I'll try again.

i hate my painting

I had a realization last week. I hated the painting on my easel. It wasn't finished, but there was no way that would ever happen as long as I continued to ignore it.

Ignore the glare. I grabbed a quick shot before irreversible artistic impulses 

 I had shot a pretty good roll of film, and secured a show of recent photographs for September, BUT I was not painting. So. Last Saturday, I decided I would do something to this painting, because it couldn't possible get any worse. I had no plan, but I covered the oil painting completely with an extremely watered-down layer of cheap-o, white acrylic paint. Refusing to mix with the oil, this watery white beaded and puddled on top of the painting. I didn't know what it would look like when it dried, but I felt better.

Three years ago, I made this thing. 

You might consider it a painting. I don't. It's on canvas. It's got paint on it, but it's more of an experiment or a sketch. I made it, but didn't like the result. It kicked around my studio space, and enough other people reacted positively to it that I kept it and never painted over it. Recently I changed out the small paintings in my bedroom. When I first moved, I hung some tiny landscapes at the foot of my bed. Those got exchanged for some of my experimental oil sketches, including the thing.

When the white acrylic paint dried, I looked at the thing with fresh eyes. It's nothing special, just a rubber cement resist with black oil paint that varies in how thinned out it is. I went out to buy some rubber cement to see what it could do to this painting. This is what it looks like right now. It's still not done, but I'm a lot happier with the way it's turning out.