Friday, Santa Fe, afternoon, the sun shines through cloud's glare, windows are open, it is warm here, the snow melts, ice forms. The riverbed has a thick frozen sheet of it, melting snow flows beneath.
I have spent this entire week without a painting in process, it feels strange, but the fates and life have deemed it so. Not that there is anything strange or tumultuous that has caused this respite, no one dying this time, nothing strenuous causing a lack of focus. It just worked out that way this week, Santa Fe is like that sometimes, plans are for not being made here, things happen in their own way and time. It did take me a while to get used to that, I mean everything in New York has a schedule and the clock runs and ticks and we race everywhere to spend less time there than running. I missed that a little this week, the constant churning, being shackled to the game, complaining about not enough time to see friends, hiding out at home exhausted and spent onlt to stop when one gets sick.
Having this week "off" is strange. I did sketch out a piece the other night, it turned out terrible, so I intended to re-do it the following day, but company came, then there was a dinner date, a birthday party, none of that planned, but I just went with the flow, what the hell, got to get out once in a while.
For the past nine months I painted nearly everyday, that was quite a streak, I lost myself in the studio, in a very good way, came up with a gorgeous and very colorful body of work. So this week as the rent was growing insanely past due, I sent out sales pitches, cold calls, it was like what I used to do in the gallery, it is like what I have done before when I find myself painted in the corner again. Nothing happened though, some maybe's, lots of no responses, gotta keep on trying, think dammit, need to get money to the landlady very soon. I have been in this boat before and she has been considerate, but I know that it won't be much longer that my monetary tardiness will be so amicably tolerated.
But today is Friday, have the gang coming over later, maybe we'll even go out for a cocktail to the monthly Gay mixer here, maybe I'll sell a painting, maybe I'll meet someone, but there is no doubt that we will be celebrating later, happy with just the day, this time we can share together.
I've been thinking about abstraction, think in colors, then thinking in black and white. Wonder why my dreams are always about falling in love during some post-apocalyptic alien from out space invasion while shuttered in an American mall scenario and wonder why my dreams don't look more like this?