Oh, I’ll be there early next week, at Quintus, packing paintings with good will and expectation for the next exhibition. So you may stop by and haggle for a painting. It ain’t over ’til the bald man sleeps. And I tell ya, he hasn’t even begun to yawn.
I am indebted to the artists who answered the call to exhibit in my part of the world. If any painter needs a painting of mine to hang on a wall, a rock, or a tree in the woods, then it will arrive, and perhaps with me holding it, for I am that desperate to express the gratitude I have for your kindnesses and participation in this autumn affair.
Winter is nigh upon us in the northern hemisphere. Enjoy your green summer Kari Seid and Godfrey Blow. The rest of us will sink low in our overcoats and burn our noses in the frosty air. Well, not the Bledsoes of sunny Phoenix, nor Lupo Sol of Spain-on-the-ocean, and Michael Odysseus Yakoumakis—hey, what’s it like living and painting in the forever land and sky of blue?
Well, I’ve lived a half century and know that place does matter. My place does not wish for men and women to be happy. Joining together in a room you poets and minstrels who paint, was like a blast of sweet babies’ breath to a land encumbered with a monumental nursing home despair.
Group Stuckism is good medicine as strength in numbers. Misery loves company, but so does joy, when there is another, or two, or a hundred to recognize and share it. I have found that exhibiting paintings together in a group show is a powerful force and much more life-giving than standing alone in a room all alone in a room.
Stuckism brings people together. ¡Viva el Stuckism!
Thank you all again and again, and may cadmium yellow always be plentiful on your art cart!