Aug 24, 2006
Believe it or not, I only did my first painting about 12 years ago. A portrait of a huge southern redneck sheriff with his arms folded. It was a real struggle. When it was done I was not too pleased. It looked pretty good but it wasn't what I expected. I lived on 12th street and first avenue at the time. I framed it and decided to hang it in the hallway of my building. One cold winter night about a year later, I noticed it was gone. It was a wild neighborhood and occasionally wackos got in. I laughed at the thought of someone stealing my painting. Anyway about a year after it was stolen, my friend Frankie V and I went into this bar on Avenue B, the Lakeside Lounge. All of a sudden, Frankie says "look." He points and there above the bar is my painting hanging proudly. We call the bartender over and Frank told him that I did the painting. He says that about a year before, a guy came into the bar late one night and wanted to know if they wanted to buy a painting. He said they loved it so they paid him 50 bucks and off he went. I told them they could keep the painting. I liked the thought of it hanging in this cool bar. Then every once in a while I would stop by with friends and show them my painting. Everyone loved the story of how it came to live there. Well about 2 years after that, I was in there with with Frankie and he says, "hey, where is your painting?" We look around and it's gone. The bartender tells us that one winter night someone really wanted that painting bad, so they snuck it off the wall and smuggled it out under their coat. The painting I didn't like too much was now stolen twice. Who would have thunk it.