Howdy there true believers. Tonight I went to Gibson and did a couple of watercolors while sitting at the bar. I wanted to spend some time doing arty stuff tonight, but I seem to have the opposite affliction to agoraphobia. Claustrphobia? I have an irrational fear of being home. So I took my sketchbook and watercolors to Gibson, my friendly neighborhood bar and did couple of paintings. It was enjoyable. I got there around 7 and had a couple of hours to talk with my friend who worked there while it was slow. Afterward I was heads down into the painting and was surrounded by people ordering drinks. While making this post, I have one question. Is The Crow soundtrack really the best CD of all time? Or is it just because I was 15 in 1994 that I respond so fervently to this music? Is it a Pavlovian response to the feeling of accomplishment of having grown pubic hair? Maybe the hormonal high of having a new batch of zits to pop every morning felt much more pertinent than the air conditioned nightmare of the cubicle life?
Meh, now that I look at these I see that the photoshopping of the painting of Liz is bullshit. The straight-up watercolor is much better. Oh well, it's late. If I return to it at some point, it can be improved.