Metaphysic Storm

[simulposted on the Tome]

I’ve been traveling within the bourgeois capitol of the United Highways of America, KKKalifornia for two weeks. It is very beautiful here, when one can find that rare spot where private property doesn’t completely choke off the vista and that moment coincides with a low smog point.

I’ve been enjoying the minivan life. As you most likely recall, this is my second tour of duty in the Sunshine State. My first was very bleak, for I was very ill prepared for an extended production from my Quest. And the misanthropy of those days are but a slight hum in the back of my non-army/police mind now. I’ve resolved the paradox of loving my mobile home and hating a society built around the automobile. Nature sure is a funny thing, seeing as though humans gravitate to pleasant climates and the most beautiful areas of earth and in doing so ruin the climate and beauty with cookie cutters homes, megastore parking lots and ten lane highways. I wonder if they’ll be ok if this is as good as it gets.

My production is warming up although I don’t think I’ll be able to do as many house portraits as I hoped. The first two I did received no response from the owners and although that’s not much, it’s caused me to give pause to investing enormous amounts of my time into paintings I’m not going to want in the future. That’s why I’ve already gravitated to landscapes/cityscapes. But the good news comrades, is that I’ve “sold” my first work. I picked up a commission while I was painting my second painting here. The house for the portrait is located in Yorba Linda.

I stood out in the blazing sun coated in White preserver and produced the painting. They’re trying to sell it even though they just bought the property, tore down the house that was there and rebuilt 5 years ago. They think 4,800 square feet is a little much. Although they will miss the view of Disneyland’s fireworks every night from the private view of paradise found from their back patio. Don’t get the wrong idea. These Romanian immigrants are down to earth. They drive modest cars, although they did make me remove their Jetta from my painting, and are only asking 1.5 million for their house. They’re frustrated that they’re Christian adult kids aren’t Christ like. The youngest daughter wore tight pants with “love pink” spread across her ass as she smooched her soon to be live in boyfriend.

When I presented the painting to them I got the usual barter routine. As a rule of thumb I don’t barter unless my need for capitol dictates my actions, such as the situation I’m in now. He asked if I would take less than $300 for a painting that’s already reasonable priced. I told him that I would not, that I would rather keep the painting of his beautiful expensive house than sell out completely. I had my landscape paintings outside of my van curing in the sunlight. I offered him two paintings for $400, a steel of a deal. He said yes and I prepared his house portrait for sale.

I only stretch my paintings from my mobile studio when they’re sold because I can no longer keep them in my minivan afterwards do to damage. When I went into their house to finish the transaction he asked me to look at the back of his house. I could smell the sourness already. When I stepped into his backyard I was taken back by the view. His home is 30 miles from the ocean but it can be seen as a thin white line along with most of LA. I was excited just thinking about painting it when he said, “It’s a nice view but it would be too easy to paint.” He didn’t want one of my “art” paintings. He wants another painting of his house, from the back.

I was not happy. I don’t mind selling out a little and painting portraits of the Capitalists trophies but for a person to unconsciously express such a lack of interest in the art/artist instead of the subject discourages me. I kept my happy face on as the wife tried to get me to be a distributor of her pyramid miracle juice when I realized I promised them 2 for $400. As I sat their sipping her $40 dollar a bottle juice they then tried to convince me to paint their family portrait. At that point I was willing to lose the sale, tell them I wanted $300 cash for the painting or forget it. I was growing tired of them telling me how I am an industrious rule model for their children as they complained their kids were hanging out with pot smoking, lazy heathens.

It turns out they didn’t have enough cash on them. Because I couldn’t take the painting with me I’ll have to trust them and return next Tuesday to finish the deal. I think I’m going to paint the view from their backyard though. If they don’t want it, fuck em’ I’ll be happy to use their private view as a visual spring board. Here’s to metaphorically bighting the hand that feeds.