By W.R. Jones
This is a small 6″ x 8″ copy of a painting by somebody. I don’t remember who and can’t find the original. It is most likely T. Allen Lawson or Clyde Aspivig as they are my favorite landscape painters.
I only have this to show as I was bucked off two paintings this weekend. One threw me back two weeks; the other frog jumped and booted me back a couple of days. I’m all creaked out now laying here in bed with my bad shoulder, knee, and painting arm.
I don’t know why I’m STRAPPED to the bed. Maybe they are afraid I will jump up and injure myself further with bold brush strokes.
I believe the word “bold” is overused by art teachers; don’t know how many times I’ve heard, “be bold, slap that paint on there.” I never saw much value in being bold and wrong.
Would you want your surgeon to be bold? “Hey, I’m not going to be timid here. No pussyfooting around waiting for test results and discussion. Give me the scalpel. Oops, I just made that swashbuckling stroke in the wrong leg – still, it was bold, don’t you think?”
I received an email from a company offering to please my clients by painting for me. Maybe I should have let them do my weekend pieces. Fine, satisfy my clients, if you can find any.
I say, if you are looking for business in the US, why don’t you mosey on down to the Olympic Stadium to find someone with at least some grasp of English to write your ad.
All I want from you is an opium pipe, a quiet room, and a small order of sweet and sour chicken.