Alright, alright. Apparently some people (Mallory) read this blog, so now I gotta keep updating it or whatever. How am I supposed to
Anyway, I went to see Mallory and Heather's show Amigas Muertas at 37th and Zen the other day. Proof:
This is your classic "The flash sure is taking a long time, I wonder what's wrong with FUUUUUUU**" shot, where I proceeded to inspect my camera at the exact moment it decided to take the picture. Perfect comic timing like this is proof that God exists, and he's a smartass.
That's more like it.
And so what if I'm sporting my "Not homeless, just too lazy to shave" mustache.
The show was really nice - great food, super comfy couches. Oh, and I guess there were some paintings up on the walls. Wasn't really paying attention.
I was busy sketching. Because I always like to feel productive when the conversation wanes and I'm left to my own devices. This is a drawing I did of Mallory, which I had her sign because I used to do that to girls in high school. At the time, I rationalized it as giving them credit for modeling for my art. In reality, it was just a clumsy starter to a creepy conversation that went nowhere very slowly.
"I drew this of you. Would you sign it?"
No, I'm not a serial killer. Why do you ask?
So glad I gave up social interaction after high school.
Another drawing. This makes up for the really crappy sketch I made right before it that we SHALL NOT SPEAK OF AGAIN.
My bootleg of one of Mallory's pieces. I'm thinking of parking my car outside of her shows from now on, and selling sketches of her paintings from my trunk.
Why yes, I have a rich and fulfilling fantasy life. Thanks for noticing.
There was a fishtank in the middle of the room. Above the fireplace. I'm not sure if that's ironic, but it's at least Alanis Morissette ironic.
People spent more time staring at the fish than the art. I find that somehow charming.
From conversations I overheard, it sounds like Mal and Heather stand a good chance of selling some pieces. Bleh. So capitalist. What part of 'starving artist' do they not get? You can't be avant garde and pay rent, guys. It's the law.
It's a shame I can't really sum up the night in words, but I will say that it was good to have an actual conversation with people who appreciate my genius. It had been awhile. Also, Heather and Mal's work looks so much better in person than in Facebook photos.
Speaking of Facebook photos, it was weird having Mallory continually introducing me to people whom I recognized from pics on her Facebook albums.
Dramatic Reinactment:
Me, to myself: "Hey, that's Mallory's mom."
Mallory: "Hey Chris, this is my mom."
It's odd feeling like an unintentional stalker. This is why I prefer having conversations with anonymous strangers on the internet.
Also, this:
Not a reinactment, but it's probably what people were thinking.
Because they don't understand my dark tortured whatchamacallit.
I'm an artist, dammit. I must do art. It's what I do.
Great show, Mal and Heather. Looking forward to the next one.
Peace!
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