Finally: The end of the freezing bitter wind blowing off of the east river in Astoria, Queens. Spring! My solo show in Greenpoint, Brooklyn wrapped up in April followed by three group shows )The Upstairs Art Gallery, Phoenicia New York; Norfolk NYC art gallery, LES Manhattan; and Beezy Douglas Carnivale in Bushwick Brooklyn). Spring was a little crazy. With spring came the decision to venture to Oregon. Leaving old New York City for a cottage off the coast of northern Oregon, in the outskirts of Astoria. Astoria, Oregon (our poor mailman).
As spring blossomed, sadness occurred with the loss of a friendship, the death my little sweet dog, & having to give my extremely attached kitty cat up to man who lives in Rockaway, Queens and wears a fanny pack.
To ease the stress my favorite aunt (and one of my favorite humans), Aunt Marguerite had come to New York City to visit Heidi and me. Her and her boyfriend Rick stayed with us for five days. I finally was able to show the two my favorite city. I showed them parts of Astoria, Little Italy, and the Lower East Side.I also took them to the Empire State Building, my favorite pub thats been there thousands of years, small little holes-in -the-wall bars in the east village, many restaurants and bars and bars and bars (we are Irish), a little neat store where my Aunt bought hats for all of us and then to my church, my home of homes, my sanctuary, my university, my graveyard, The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Weeks before my very loved In-laws also had visited us bringing with them my little nephew Mason. We took him to The Natural History Museum and then Central Park. The two of us played near a pond & created little boats to float ants across the endless sea. My little buddy. Heidi says Mason & I are the same person…even though i’m 31 and he is seven.
And then came my exhibitions. Every one of them were really good experiences and really different experiences. My friend Eric Clark had invited me to The Beezy Douglas Carnivale exhibit which was a miniature festival in a building deep into brooklyn. Within the halls of the space were my paintings, as well as Eric’s & another really nice guy’s work. In the main room there was a band and then comedians and other acts. There was a small miniature bar and kitchen on the other side of the compound which really is like a four bedroom ground-floor apartment. It was more of a big party with bunch of fun dorky but also very cool and seemingly un-pretenious older kids. Two of my favorite people came, my very good friend Mike which I shamefully hadn’t seen in a long time, and Kaitlyn, my sister. Then the next week was the opening at Norfolk which was all day from noon to 9. There were good things if my memory serves me correctly, although I am not sure how good if I can’t remember of any of them. But the place is really cool and hip and the girl who runs it is really sweet and very kind individual. I believe there is a show every saturday, so I recommend you go or show your work or participate some how. It is also a store for jewelry and such other beautiful little things.
And last the opening was in Phoenicia (just outside Woodstock) The Art Upstairs Gallery. The Woodstock area really fascinates…it is a haven for older artists, most of whom spent their careers in NYC & now retreat to this wonderful woodland sanctuary. It was extordinarily different for me. My paintings were hung in the presence of artist’s who have been creating art before my birth. It was a bit intimidating at first but after a few glasses of wine I was fine. There were Interesting conversations happening all around us….. not some of the “talk” like you get in NYC…, but REAL art conversations. The night was a great experience. BUT, now I am trouble…. A couple of weeks after the show I made arrangements to pick up these very important paintings. When I finally reached my contact person at the gallery I was only able to find two of my three paintings. I had taken the bus from New York City to Woodstock and then another 20 minute car ride to Phoenicia. I woke up when leaving the Woodstock stop. The driver had let me out on the way out of town. From there I started to walk in the direction to Phoenicia. Counting on a person to stop and drive me to the small village as my thumb waved in the air. A nice man had stopped and drove me a couple minutes down the street to an area that receives good amount of traffic. After a couple of people stopped and ask where I was going each of them suggested that I stay there, where it was my best chance to get a ride to Phoenicia. A woman saw me and was extremely kind to drive me all the way to the gallery. In the tiny town we searched for my man. The gallery and the store underneath it were closed. The trusty old hardware store clerk knew where the gallery owner lived and gave me directions to the house (of course the cell phone did not work in the mountains). We found him. He took me to the gallery and in a back room of the gallery two of my pieces were laying on the ground next to many more paintings. And that is when I found only the two. Now I have written to the guy several times via email & have been calling…. it’s a very important painting that is missing. At the last moment I caught the last bus going back to the city. Hopefully I sold the painting & they’ll be sending me a nice check…. otherwise, what can I do in this situation? Arghhhhh!
