Yesterday was a long-ass day. I was on a one-day East Coast mini speaking tour. I had an engagement with my old professor's painting class to come talk about my work and how the hell they're going to cope with exiting school when the time comes. There's no easy answer but to say "whatever works, works" which translates roughly to "turning tricks pays bills."
Later on I hightailed it back to the BCA's closing reception for SWAP MEET, the group show curated by Emily Isenberg in which the invited artists hang work and then negotiate trades among themselves. I totally won, by the way, and I soon get to take home a totally glam pair of photographs by my new friend Heather Cleary. (p.s. the show is on view through the weekend, so don't miss it)
The closing was celebrated with a potluck supper in the gallery, where we all met and talked and discussed how cold, bitter and lonely making art in Boston Massachusetts is. And to think I thought that problem was specific to my dismal outlook. Truly heartening to know that we are all alone and suffering insignificance together.
On Tuesday night, I went down to Hartford early to get ready for the Hartford Art School gig, but mostly to reconnect with that old-timey drunken happiness that was my six-year long stint in Connecticut's capital city. Gabi, J, Mel, Petey, Angelica and I went to trivia night at the Half Door, came in fourth place, but def won first place drunk.
gays, if you've ever wondered, this is what love between man and a woman looks like
Mel, J, Angelica
BACK AT HOME
a baby in there.
good help is hard to find.