The Sharpie Day.

Inventory, signing, dating. Here I am thinking I've got a boatload of work, and the truth of the matter is I've only completed 10 paintings this year. Or 30, if you count how many phases each of them went through.  Maybe that's why I feel like I made a lot of work. Also, I've lost this painting:

LOST PAINTING: Last scene moping around my studio in Los Angeles, begging for mercy.

It was in progress. I remember it was difficult. I remember thinking it was really a tough one to pull out of. There is a 50% 99.9% chance it was destroyed while packing and moving. I vaguely remember scraping some layers away and accidentally piercing the canvas with my palette knife. I vaguely remember thinking deus ex machina, since I did not willingly destroy it. But again, I could be making all of that up. The weeks before moving were a blur. All the other paintings made it safe and sound. Theoretically this should have been packed with them. It had potential. I liked all the elements. It was a sad misfit. I always like the underdogs. I will try and recreate it from memory. I am reminded of a childhood neighbor who used to have a beagle named, Snoopy. Terribly unoriginal, but even worse was when Snoopy died, they got another beagle and named it Snoopy II. After I complete this theoretical painting, I will name it Snoopy III.

I updated my website, but haven't hit the 'publish' button. I am working on either a witty or uber serious bio and a decent statement. I can't decide. I hate being so irreverent. No, I guess I like it.