Last night I visited the seedy underbelly of the cultural world, a south Jersey art exhibit. I went in thoroughly unsure of what to expect. It's at a where? A beauty salon? In Westville? And they're showing his pics? Huh?
The other artists being shown were shady at best. One guy had these little wall plaques of white-on-white trees that reminded me of when you're in 3rd grade and make crayon rubbings of leaves and mom hangs it on the fridge. Another guy had a ton of landscape, castle, and "cute animal" paintings that mostly looked like what people come up with when they paint along to the likes of Bob Ross. Badly. The last guy I'm aware of had some collage-type paintings that ran the gamut from "eh" to "I'd hang that", and seemed to have a natural level of talent, not just some guy who decides "art is my career". Much of the night was spent trying to figure out who made what in order to not talk smack about what shit this or that was with the artists standing 2 feet away. I'm reasonably certain no mistakes were made...
The place, while small, was packed. By the time we arrived, maybe 15 minutes into it, he'd already sold two paintings. About 15 minutes later I realized my hair was way not art enough to hang there. Members of Blur as far as the eye could see. Much time was spent outside with merging elements of the Philly crew and the witchy crew. We tried to convince him to pose for pics in front of his sold work with an ear-spanning grin and fistfuls of cash, but he was having none of it.
The place had postcards of a few of his paintings made (only his, tee-hee), and of course a short stack of them found their way into my bag. So! Anyone who wants a postcard, email your mailing address to the addy in my profile (Or text message it! Or ouija board* it!) and receive
*(Not responsible for mis-mailings due to tampering or incompetence of the spirits.)