A little late this week, I’ve been reworking a wood panel piece that has taken way too much of my time the last few days. I decided to change the background color. In fact, I changed it a few times, which left the bird all shingatz. That is, I believe, NY Italian for a hot mess. I finally set it aside and started a new 18x18” canvas of an Owl that will be a companion for Cereza, the gorgeous creature above, which I love. Perhaps the problem with the one I was reworking is the surface of a wood panel doesn’t suit how I apply paint now. I started working on wood in the mid-90s when I was painting with egg tempura, which requires a rigid foundation. I often washed acrylic in between layers of the egg tempura as well. Desperado, below, is one of my Archetypal Angels from that period. It was a series to honor my many friends who had died of AIDS, and when 9/11 happened, there were Angels to honor people I knew who’d died then too. I stopped painting the Angels soon after I moved to Cape Cod. Actually, I stopped painting altogether for a few years to do some writing instead. Then Trump got elected the first time and I had to pick up the brush again - hence the Birds.

Also, good news this week. The check for the three paintings that recently sold to my follower on Instagram arrived and I now can afford to buy that elusive UK round trip ticket and I plan to go see Paul in August. In addition, another piece has sold as well so I’ll have a bit of money to spend while I’m there. Next sale, I’m getting new glasses to replace the ones I got after the cataract surgeries that have never been quite right. In the meantime I intend to paint through July so the gallery has new work for the show in August and prepare a few more collages for the workshop I’ll be doing at the gallery then too. Oh, and yesterday, I received the release form contract for a project I’m not ready to discuss yet but when I am, I promise it will be exciting. And finally, I attended a lovely opening ceremony for Province Post, a new housing complex where they have Ruckus and Electra in their permanent collection - here they are in their new home. OK, on with the day - time’s a wastin’.

There are two new birds this week, Pettirosso, the Robin above and Corvus, the Crow below, but I want to write about how I’ve I have slipped into what feels like a natural routine, especially now the sun rises earlier. I usually wake up around 5:30 and hop out of the bed a few minutes later to go straight into the studio. No coffee, no music, no time to think. Just me and whatever piece I’m working on. Perhaps I should explain - a few years ago, after having a workstation in my living room that was easy to keep organized and tidy when the wood panel paintings were quite small, the art space became messy and unmanageable with too many storage boxes and Ikea trolleys taking up valuable real estate in my living space. So I invited two friends over for lunch and we moved my bed out of the bedroom and turned the bedroom into a studio. Once the move was made, it was a relief not to be confronted by the mess when I came through my front door. The bed has moved within the living space a few times more until I settled on the current arrangement, but basically I have a studio apartment with an art studio attached. But I digress, let’s get back to my first thing in the morning routine. After an hour or so in the studio, I finally make coffee. I have a set routine after that as well which includes making my bed and writing in my journal and doing most of the puzzles from the New York Times website. Sometimes I go back into the studio, but generally I bring the piece out into the living room so I can contemplate my next move, or do the thinking I’d jump out of bed to avoid. Eventually I make breakfast, or by that time, brunch and get ready for my daily online hour or two with Paul. It’s only after we sign off for the day that my routine opens up for other things. Sometimes I paint a bit more, sometimes it’s laundry and domestic chores, or writing a Substack or a walk to the beach. Yesterday it was a walk into town for the Sunday crossword puzzles at the library and a visit to the hardware store for the doodads I need for framing. The day before, I got a haircut and today I met Kevin Sessums, who’s in town for a few weeks, for coffee at Joe’s. In the meantime, I have good news. In addition to the two pieces that sold earlier this month, someone who has followed me on Instagram for a couple of years was here on vacation. To make a long story short, I met him at the gallery and he bought three of my paintings. So Yay, I may be able to afford that elusive ticket to the UK this summer after all. Ok, on with the day.

Spent, or feral, are words for how I felt this week. Nothing serious, but I did require a couple days of Advil and horizontal time on the sofa in front of the TV. I managed, however, to paint Domaius, the genus name for Emus, above. He went the way of all the Emus I’ve painted, meaning he started out scary because Emus can be scary, then he got goofy because Emus are definitely goofy, then he went all Dr. Suess before being scary again. It was at that point I began to hate it, which I’ve learned is a sure sign that a piece is almost done. All Domaius needed was softened eyes and a slightly sly upturn of the lips to be finished.

Cookie, above, was the first of my Emus. It was also the first piece that sold at my first gallery show of the Birds. I’d sold a dozen or so on my own to people I knew but strangers bought Cookie and she already had a red dot when I arrived for the opening of the show. Stormy, below, came next and was named for Ms. Daniels who was all over the news at the time. She was long gone by the time I started selling at craft fairs and was the face on the only line of tee shirts I made. I believe I’ve mentioned the little boy who burst into happy tears when his dad bought him one of the Stormy giclees, which I framed for them then and there.

I won’t show you all of the Emus but I would be remiss if I didn’t include Fracas, the collage I made on a gold background with a print of Vago, my favorite of the Emus, along with the War of the Angels mayhem. Those three older Emus are good examples of the goofy, sly and scary phases Domaius went through before I framed him when he was barely dry so he and last week’s Cardinalis could head over to the Ali Gray Gallery to replace pieces that had sold. Best get cracking on more new work, I thought those two were for the August show.