The scent of a leatherman…

I had ideas for this house – one was a design that trailed into the room from the corner. Today I made that a reality. The stencil paper I’m used to working with was not to be found so I used oil paper. Not sure anything would work I moved forward. The design inspired by ancient Greek motifs looked oddly like the tattoo of a leatherman. If there’s anything I could want it’s the scent of a leatherman.

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Goodbye ugly green…

Working on this room now. The landlord let me paint finally. I’ve had to live with this mint green color for two years. I picked a deep red to go with the wood and the ceiling color is a warm grey. For some reason I kept thinking medieval library.

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Faux Day

This is a room I’ll be painting where I live. First there was an ugly plywood board covering up some of the wall. So a piece of trim was missing, so I replaced it with a dollar board from salvage. Not great but the best I could get with a dollar. So I had to paint it faux mahogany to match the rest of the wood. It’s the board above the door and needs to look a 100 years old. I painted it in acrylics so the sheen would match – the first time I’ve done this. The room will be Greek inspired and the details I’m painting will be based on ancient Greek designs.  The color of the walls will be red to go with the faux mahogany. That mint green is the bane of my existence and the landlord told me I could paint so I’m going to make this rock. This is a work in progress that I hope to complete over Christmas.

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Salon Show?

I met a woman at Open Studios who runs a salon in Oakland. She’s considering me for a show. I’ve decided to show digital collages. Work that I’ve rarely shown that people have been responding to. So why not go for it? I’m throwing in a few men and flowers and such. The tulips I did tonite for this show concept as I get images together.

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Ashby BART window ala Cricket

Reading Rilke and trying to take my banal day to day life things and turn it into art.  As Rilke says in Letters to a Young Poet “If your everyday life seems poor, don’t blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth it’s riches; because for the creator there is no poverty and no poor indifferent place.”

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