WORK!

For those of you old enough to remember the TV show DOBIE GILLIS I will quote his beatnik side kick Maynard G. Krebbs, when he heard any mention of a job- "Work!" he half squealed out the offensive word in horror, going into a hyper-ventilated fit. Google it. That sums up my view on the prospect of working for the man (or woman). That's not the only reason I became an artist, but it's right up there. Little did I realize in my 20's that the kind of artist I would become would require (and still does) a good amount of work. I'm not counting my compulsive, rather prolific art making "practice". (I hate that word, but sometimes it just fits.) No, the kind of work I refer to is wood humping, nail driving, down on your knees, construction. Jesus may have been a carpenter, but I'll guarantee you, that was just his day job. Once all those crosses were built he went back to the shack to work on new sermons and ideas for fresh miracles. Carpentry just paid the rent. Such is our fate.
   So the other day, just before I was to start a new job building some stuff for a friend down the road, I got a call from one of my most loyal collectors. "You may not be into this....." he started his proposal, "....but I had this idea for a project and thought of you." If it didn't involve humping my tools into the truck and going to Home Depot, I was interested. He went on. "I would be willing to pay a day rate of $_____ for two days, to get you to draw the female form. It could be be one drawing or as many as you want. Just work for two days and I'll buy all you produce for the agreed upon rate. Interested?" Fuck yeah, I was interested. Not only was this a way of putting off my impending carpentry job, it was conceptually sound and I could expand the process in future suites of drawings. I was down.
   On a rainy Sunday I cleared off the kitchen table, got out my paints, crayons and pencils, dug into the big pile of old musty paper Mystery Girl had given me and went to work. I'm not a great draftsman. I drew as a kid and stopped in the mid-70's. In my view I'd run out of things to draw. Performance, bloodprints, video, installation and conceptual work took over. It wasn't until relatively recently that I picked it up again. And in no time i was loving it. My line was predictably stilted and awkward, but my composition was dead on. It's sort of like what I imagine a jazz musician goes through when improvising on a groove. It's unconsciously intuitive.  I still had my chops. I never know what I'll draw until it hits the page. And that's a good thing. Below is DAY LABOR SUITE #1. I hope you like it. I have a two day minimum and my rate is negotiable. Phone lines are open. Call now.