Friday, March 25, 2016




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.


Wednesday, March 23, 2016





Tuesday, March 15, 2016





It's six weeks 'til turkey season and maybe by then we'll put the "hunting" back in HWS. But for now what else is there to talk about? Church? Forget it. After 30 years of trying to light a fire under the inner circle, I'm worn out. It looks like we'll celebrate our Diamond Jewbilee with a whimper and a groan. I'm not completely resigned to this fate....but I'm close. The BAF is MIA and it looks like they have no desire to heel to the call. I'm open to suggestions. Anyone know a musical director or organist who is willing to work for nothing? Seems like people just don't believe in burning dollar bills anymore. So forget church. Politics? Now yer talking.
   These days you can't get away from it. And we have one person to thank for that- Donald J. Trump. Recently at a stockholders meeting CBS president Les Moonvez thanked the Donald profusely for stirring the American shit pile so vigorously that the money was pouring in. He sounded like a Colombian coke dealer trying to find another empty tract house to stack the boxes of cash. He was positively giddy. Everyone cheered. The Republican machine tacitly chastises the Donald's methods on the one hand and holds back outright condemnation, just in case he does get elected. No one wants to be shunned by power and not get invited to state dinners.. Trump not only exposes the party for the hypocrites they are, he shines a light on hundreds of thousands of racist, xenophobic, assholes....just like himself.
    In the 50's the civil rights movement challenged the status-quo, at a cost of many Black lives and their leadership. In the sixties the struggle continued with the addition of white youth, both opposed to racism and the war in Vietnam. Watergate was the ultimate victory for the left. It brought down a corrupt, illegal government, led by President Nixon. But that was a long time ago. Not all, but most of the country became passively divided. The racists couldn't say "nigger" in public anymore, but they easily could in their living rooms and job sites. They weren't any less racist, or fundamental in their views. They were, just like in Nixon's days, the silent majority. They hid their hate like a child molester hides his horrific deeds. He seemed like such a nice guy. Thanks to Trump they are silent no more. And man, there's a lot of them.
   Trump may not fit the strict definition of a fascist, but he's coming closer every day. And in turn those nasty, mean spirited "patriots" who attend his rallies are being fitted for brown shirts as we speak. The mean old redneck who sucker- punched the black protester and later threatened that "if he comes back we may have to kill him." is having his legal bill paid by the Trump organization. "He just got a little excited" Trump explained. But you know all this. And for this I thank Mr. Trump. He has exposed just how sick America is- from the cigar chomping political bosses and black hearted billionaires, all the way down to that old German woman showing just how the seig heil salute should be done: palm down, fingers together, stiff arm outstretched. Click those heels. That's the ticket. It's fun!    

Sunday, March 13, 2016


Sunday, March 6, 2016


Friday, March 4, 2016