"Smooth Rich Lager in Clean, Smoke-Free Bar..."

Painting in Progress: Anchor Steam bottle, in anticipation of my San Francisco trip in two weeks.

"Jazz man!

And Steam!

As if we were in Frisco!

Go, Man, Go!"

The Cloister

This is my sanctum santorum. Home.

Progress on "American Oasis," cont'd

What else could one possibly need at an oasis in the American desert: a church, a diner and a go-go club.

Epiphany, cont'd

The big question is, where would I go, and besides painting and writing, what would I do when I get there?

One thing is for sure, as I get older - and I will be over 50 when I can leave Albany - it will be someplace relatively warm.

But where?

Costa del Sol? Where I can live in Spain, swim in the Mediterranean Sea, find a part-time job on a nearby olive ranch...go to the bullfights once a week?

Somewhere in the Caribbean, where I am not too far from my family?

I've even looked at Kauai, the westernmost island of Hawaii. There is a small town, population less than 500, called Hanalei. It's an artist's community.

Ford in Hawaiian is "Poluku."

But I know, eventually, I want to shed my state bureaucratic persona and embrace who I truly am. I was not meant to sit in a cubicle and develop agendas, create matrices, serve any political master. I was meant to be the guy in the painting above.

The question is, how do I make it a reality?

Progress on "Notes on American Oasis"

A bar napkin, a sketch, an empty glass of Woodford Reserve.

If I am going to have one bourbon too many, well...dammit...at least it will be integrated into my painting and my writing.

This painting is almost done. It needs a little tweaking, a little cleaning up.



In the meantime, I had a bit of an epiphany...about life, about work, about my future. No matter how great the cause is or how good the pay is, I am not sure I want to spend the rest of my life in a cubicle. I am not sure I want to be involved in politics or government. I know I want to be wherever my daughter is, but that just means another 13 years in Albany. But it does not mean I have to do what I am doing now.

Turning 40 in two weeks...it's time...to use the cliche...to think outside the box and liberate myself. My life is my own. Time to reinvent. Time to reimagine. Time to re-create.

Progress on "American Oasis" Paintings

Back in my youth, I probably read too much Sam Shepard and too much Jack Kerouac and thought a lot of the mythical west...which I guess still exists once you get off the Interstates and past the Wal-Marts and Starbucks, Lowes and Linens and Things.

These are the pieces currently in progress.

New Poem: Intimate

there is nothing tougher than standing
before a woman and baring my soul
tougher than standing buck naked.

to expose my raw nerve endings
but when intimacy is the goal
there is no way i can fake it.

and my openness here is not pandering
i'd rather go see a dancer work a pole
i'd rather go have a cigar and a steak.

but no!
i must go forth
and share my bloodied soul,
dearest friend;
to your will i submit,
dearest love;
for your heart, i surrender,
my favorite bartender.

(c) fprm, 2008

Sketches on a Bar Napkin

The first painting will be called, "American Oasis." The second painting will be called "Notes on an American Oasis."

New Paintings

Dessert




Beat Streets

February Seven, Twenty Thirty-Two

That's the title of the painting below, formally called, "When I'm Sixty-Four." By that time, my daughter will be 30, hopefully I might have found a long-time companion who won't lock that door when I get home at quarter past three a.m...birthdays were always time to look forward...this year as much as any.






The painter, with Sierra Nevada and scruff.