the hat (2); mixed media on board, 24 x 24 inches, the string series continues
the hat (1); pencil and ink on paper (page from an old math text book).
the hat
It must be August because by afternoon, every afternoon, my intentions are bleary and weak in the middle distance, I'm like some rabbit that's run and run and can run no more, there is heat and there is fear and which way is escape? We turn our heads on the couch as the camera circles the decision. Down here in the basement dark it is the kind of cool where nothing happens, I crawl forward with a big fur hat like something achieved. That rabbit is definitely slowing down, Devon says. Upstairs in the world there is only humidity and salted temper and some fruit fly in your field of vision. I swear to Christ I felt cold on my toes not that long ago. All my plans are abandoned now. We have our naps to look forward to. At night we'll do the city in laps. Someone told me that August is a long month. It looks the same to me. It looks like playing grab ass with the piss end of summer, all those ticking lists and no will (who has will in the sunshine?) and then it's September rolling over on the hard carpet, that old painted whore with her forms and her clipboard. She can have my hat.
the hat (1); pencil and ink on paper (page from an old math text book).
the hat
It must be August because by afternoon, every afternoon, my intentions are bleary and weak in the middle distance, I'm like some rabbit that's run and run and can run no more, there is heat and there is fear and which way is escape? We turn our heads on the couch as the camera circles the decision. Down here in the basement dark it is the kind of cool where nothing happens, I crawl forward with a big fur hat like something achieved. That rabbit is definitely slowing down, Devon says. Upstairs in the world there is only humidity and salted temper and some fruit fly in your field of vision. I swear to Christ I felt cold on my toes not that long ago. All my plans are abandoned now. We have our naps to look forward to. At night we'll do the city in laps. Someone told me that August is a long month. It looks the same to me. It looks like playing grab ass with the piss end of summer, all those ticking lists and no will (who has will in the sunshine?) and then it's September rolling over on the hard carpet, that old painted whore with her forms and her clipboard. She can have my hat.
Aii! I know how you feel! I miss the way I complained about the cold just several months ago. Gorgeous painting and sketch!
ReplyDeleteaugust, when you realize summer did not meet your expectations
ReplyDeletewow dj! i LOVE "the hat" painting! love her pale eyes and hair(my parents and younger sister and one grandfather have that colouring), and skin of this lady which give a wonderful contrast to her dark hat-divine!
ReplyDeletei don't know where the "me" who didn't care about the heat has gone. she was a camp counselor all summer and loved pitching a tent by a big lake, catching bait and fishing and hated going home. she used to go running for miles in the middle of day and would be in cross country practice all day by now for the fall season in either high school or college and then just running on her own "for the fun of it" until she realized that she had always HATED IT! then she would be breathing underwater as much as she could or stuck down in a cold as ice lab for years and years which was fabulous too. now, she can't stand extreme hot or cold because of a new thyroid condition so she is a constant pain to me.
i am very excited about your book. congrats! i must get a copy which i will read in my freezer, well, probably my fridge.
always love your paintings...
ReplyDeleteShe is my favourite
ReplyDeleteI want her
Is it going to piss you off that she reminds me of lady gaga? :)
ReplyDeletevery beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI loved
wow, another gaga-comparasion. aint the first time for me, lol.
ReplyDelete