Мгла
The First Night.
Orifyoucanpaint,maybeyouthink-Idid-thatGodputyouonearthtoblowyourfatheraway.
ItturnedoutIwasn’tasgoodashewas.IkepttryingtobeforlongerthanIshouldhave,maybe.IhadashowinNewYorkanditdidpoorly-theartcriticsbeatmeovertheheadwithmyfather.AyearlaterIwassupportingmyselfandSteffwiththecommercialstuff.ShewaspregnantandIsatdownandtalkedtomyselfaboutit.Theresultofthatconversationwasabeliefthatseriousartwasalwaysgoingtobeahobbyforme,nomore.
IdidGoldenGirlShampooads-theonewheretheGirlisstandingastrideherbike,theonewhereshe’splayingFrisbeeonthebeach,theonewhereshe’sstandingonthebalconyofherapartmentwithadrinkinherhand.I’vedoneshort-storyillustrationsformostofthebigslicks,butIbrokeintothatfielddoingfastillustrationsforthestoriesinthesleaziermen’smagazines.I’vedonesomemovieposters.Themoneycomesin.Wekeepourheadsnicelyabovewater.
IhadonefinalshowinBridgton,justlastsummer.IshowedninecanvasesthatIhadpaintedinfiveyears,andIsoldsixofthem.TheoneIabsolutelywouldnotsellshowedtheFederalmarket,bysomequeercoincidence.Theperspectivewasfromthefarendoftheparkinglot.Inmypicture,theparkinglotwasemptyexceptforalineofCampbell’sBeansandFrankscans,eachonelargerthanthelastastheymarchedtowardtheviewer’seye.Thelastoneappearedtobeabouteightfeettall.ThepicturewastitledBeansandFalsePerspective.
