Work is so good, I have little time for blogging. I leave you with this pic of my studio.
I got a very funny letter asking if my studio is as tidy as it is in the pictures, or whether I spruce it up for photos.
Yes, it is that tidy, but have no illusions about the storage room, which looks like a bomb went off.
“Why do people think artists are special? It’s just another job.”
“In visual arts, prodigies don’t count. In music and literature, yes, but not in art.”
“I am a night painter, so when I come into the studio the next morning the delirium is over. I come into the studio very fearfully, I creep in to see what happened the night before. And the feeling is one of, “My God, did I do that?”.
“If you want to have clean ideas, change them as often as you change your shirts.”
And because I am a working artist, and agree with Andy Warhol that it is a job, I sell my drawings. There are some nice pieces on ebay right now, with more going up this weekend. Do have a look. A particularly nice lot is the cover and all accompanying sketches for Peter David’s novel Mascot.
PS: Actually, work is good, but my head is not. Don’t know what bug is going around, but I was an unproductive zombie for about three days. My head still feels it, and I was up until 2 AM making up the work time last night. I am bloated with a feeling of accomplishment and the salty popcorn I munched all night trying to stay awake. Gained three pounds since yesterday and my eyes are half shut from the swelling.
I’ll drink a lot of water today. But man, I love popcorn.