This was a blog for 8 artists in the Chico, CA area. We met at the Art Center once a week to BS...What are those artists doing these days? They don't tell me. I made the mistake of becoming hospitalized for a time and thus became a non entity on Tuesdays.
I've been working on four different paintings over the past month or so. It's been a real struggle at times and I've finally made a break through with one of them. It's abstract expressionism so don't expect to see any image except for the one that your mind tells you is there. Love it or hate it. It matters not at all. I'm happy with it. Now I have three paintings that I have to struggle with. 24"x24"x1.5" acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas. Title: Early morning at Pointe de la Courte in 1943 $200 Does anyone else in the Tuesday Painters group have a painting to sell?
What is up these days? Pretty much nothing. We are in the tail end of the pandemic. Well, we were supposed to be and along comes Omicron, another variant for us to worry about. I've been locked in for who knows how long because of the fear of Covid & it's many variants. When you have COPD and you are 81 years old, you do become cautious. I know that's what I do. I have been doing things despite the pandemic and those things are mostly 'art'. I used to do it with a group, but they disappeared without giving me notice. Was it something I said? Oh well, onward and upward. Since I last posted on this blog, I have been as busy as my chronic depression allows. Some of the art I have produced has been immensely satisfying to me and I consider it some of my best. The family doesn't seem to notice what I'm doing so I have to be my own critic and cheering section. I have photos of them and I will post them here at various times. I better start now because i
The Tuesday Artists any day artist. That's me, an old man of 80.9 years of age with a birthday at the first of September. I'm trying to find my way in a new age for me. I have COPD and last October I came down with pnuemonia, was hospitalized. During that time, I lost my memory and became unable to walk. My family bought me a chair that would toss me out with the push of a button and they helped their mother purchase 2 wheelchairs; one to push me in and one that I could push myself. I was discharged to a convalescent hospital in California Park, where I was put into a quarantine room with a bed, TV, and wheelchair. But I had a walker and was getting better at walking. No doctor came to see me but I was assumed to have a heart condition and so I was put on a 'cardiac diet'. I tried in vain to change my diet and get some decent furniture. No luck. I demanded to be released. No luck. I wasn't even allowed to see my wife. (and I never heard from any one of the Tuesday a