the art of mayhem

The day after I arrived in LA, Andy's art show was to open. I was pretty excited to be a part of this, to see his work on display (other than in a store) and have people admire it like I do.

As usual, I hardly slept at all my first night there. I was in a bit of a stupor, not as sharp or as patient as usual. OK, so I'll just roll with it...

I helped Andy load the paintings into his car, and carry them into the gallery. While we waited for the installer to show up, we peeked at the space he was allocated for the show. There were 2 long white walls opposite each other, one about 15' and one about 30'. He had brought 6 paintings. And they weren't the big ones. A few choice thoughts popped into my head about what I would have done differently, but I didn't say a word.

The installer showed up and asked him for the plaques of the artist bio and painting titles--you know, the ones that are posted right below each painting in a gallery. Nope, none of that was done. He had misunderstood the instructions from the gallery. Or maybe he didn't read them?? I was secretly freaking inside, but again, I didn't say a word. This is his show, his career, and who am I to say...

So it turns out he needs to get this shit done, and fast, before the installer leaves for the day. He had like 2 hours to pull it all together. And guess who bailed him out? Yes, the organized one. Dinamo saved the day. We drove back to his apartment, I typeset the bio and the titles, and we ran to a print shop and waited while we had them printed and plaqued. We ran everything back to the gallery within the 2 hours and it was a done deal. The show looks great. A little sparse, but great.

Once the crisis was over I had time to feel my feelings about what had happened. This was a new experience, to feel this way towards Andy. I really didn't mind helping him out, but I guess I was annoyed that his poor planning suddenly became my emergency. It also happened to bump my appointment with the first high school I was looking at for Christie. I'd already moved the time once because of Andy, and now I had to call the director of admissions back and postpone till the next day. I was embarrassed.

I dreaded to think that Andy didn't realize how important that appointment was to me. I also worried that he would continue to depend on me to bail him out. I am such a girl scout, always prepared in advance. It's how I avoid anxiety. He waits till the last minute and flies into creative mode. Not...my...style.

In the end he thanked me, but did not apologize. However, he has sold a painting every day since that show opened, which is pretty damned cool. So, although he may not do things the way that I would, I cannot deny that he knows what he's doing. And I admire him for his business sense.

I, on the other hand, will exert my gentle influence once I am in his life full time. I can already see ways that he can maximize his opportunities, and be better prepared. Like reading things through and writing things down instead of trusting them to memory. Though I think I know better, I have to be very careful. I never want to 'break the artist'. He's golden. And I love him that way.

perfect day

If a picture paints a thousand words, then imagine what a video can do, with music sung by some of the greatest artists of our time.

Andy posted this video to his wall just this morning, after spending the day with me yesterday. I felt so honored. It couldn't have captured the day any better. What's uncanny is that we pretty much did everything in the song except feed the animals at the zoo. And when we went home, we went to our separate homes.

Then again, the song didn't include some of the other things, like how he recited his books to me as we sat on the steps by the lake, and I cried. Or the bottle of shiraz/cabernet we drank on those same steps, overlooking the water that was as still as black glass. Or the kisses.

There was a lot of laughter, total honesty, some apologies, some confessions, an invitation to Paris, much silliness, and no words left unsaid.

I asked Andy if we could create something together. No, not a baby. I want to collaborate on a project. Of course he said. We haven't quite figured out how to do that yet. It's a little hard to paint together when we're thousands of miles apart. However...

I think I've provided just a bit of inspiration for his next round of paintings. But the real question now is will I reap what I've sown?

testament to love

Today I was thoroughly moved and inspired when I saw this painting. I have blacked out the artist's signature because he is someone that I know.

I can't say that I know him well, but I went out with him one summer many years ago, at a time when I wasn't very careful with other people's feelings. I was young and didn't spend a lot of time getting to know people. And I certainly didn't appreciate the benefits of "going deep" with someone.

Christ, I knew him so little I didn't even know he liked to paint. Now he's a successful artist. He was very nice to me, fun, and funnier yet, and he goes down in my books as the best kisser ever. He'd be tickled to know that. But I never knew how deep he was. Never knew he had it in him.

His words in this painting are precious and perfectly crafted from a heart that knows true love. Or at least dreams of it. The words are not written about me, of course, but they couldn't be any closer to my heart. They are words I would love to have said about me. They are a testament to the kind of love I seek.