Back in the Saddle

I emptied out my storage in Pennsylvania. I got to look through years of artwork quickly. It was a retrospective of sorts. I got kind of sick of some of the stuff. Other stuff was really inspiring. I inspire myself. At least I admit it. I don't get inspired by museums or good books, I get inspired by seeing what I did five to ten years ago. Hey, I can relate with it. The stuff speaks to me in a way other people never really achieve. I totally get it. There is someone out there (me) who totally understands what I've been through. I get the whole thing with the guns on velvet. That makes sense to me. That I would do that and try to make it happen. Ah, beautiful catharsis.

After experiencing the grand retrospective. The dragging of artwork out of a storage unit, dusting it off and stacking it in an attic. I was really excited about all the new paintings I am going to do. I haven't worked on a painting in a while (I am mainly writing this so that I feel that I have to paint. If I don't paint, and I've announced that I am painting to the whole world, that makes me a liar on a global scale). These paintings are going to be great, I know it because I did them before. Yeah the one with people looking like see-through kidney beans. Or the one with the lady with the huge arm. I'm revisiting them ALL.

Problemo. I got home from the east coast feeling rested and well informed on what the hell I used to do and someone has stolen my seat from my bike. How am I supposed to paint when I don't have a bike seat?

All I've been thinking about is how I can find the chop shop where my bike seat is located (and maybe my wheels that were stolen last year) so I can go in and start throwing stuff around like the Hulk. Grabbing stolen forks and rims and hurling them through the many windows that better be there. Wrapping multiple, pre-owned bike tires around seat thieves and lighting them on fire on the chop shop floor.

I also keep thinking about how I not only forgot to call in the warranty on my daughter's DVD player, but I didn't do it for Anna's laptop either. So those things better not crap out on me like my shake-to-charge flashlight or my ipod car-cassette tape adapter.