March 6, 2015
A while back I made a painting to hang in the hallway at Taproom Coffee in the Kirkwood neighborhood of Atlanta. The painting was fine but I felt it wasn’t finished.
I been making little paintings on a giant roll of orange paper that came from a garage in southwest Georgia. Lately I have been attaching some painted paper pieces to the painting at Taproom. I like it better now. It feels better to me in my mind. I cant really sleep better but if I could I would use this as one of the reasons.
I have been running around all day— picking up supplies and food and delivering wooden strips and stopping by my wife’s work and petting a fat brown dog with a hobbly leg. That little bit of pasting orange paper on a painting in a coffee shop really was nice. Bright colors and lights and I listened to these women talking next to me about anti-psychotic medicines and one read a poem she wrote to the other one. I was going to tell them how nice it was but I walked on by.
It snowed this morning. This afternoon I took my black jacket off. Sun shines into my soul— warms the heart parts.
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