|Samuel Johnson by Sir Joshua Reynolds|
I wrote a hell of a lot last year and in the preceding five and I frankly just burned the bulb out. Bored myself. Many of you have mentioned how much you missed my writing and I want to tell you that means a great deal to me and thank you. I love you.
I wrote many of you a letter back then, when I stopped, you may remember I was being courted for a brief spell to host a reality television show. Big Hollywood production company. Ostensibly the idea was to send me around the world and procure and comment on antiques and antiquities. I was flattered by the attention and enraptured with visions of future stardom. Had a video interview and submitted a bunch of writing and video.
I said that I had two conditions, I wanted the show to be one of integrity and didn't want to be connected to anything that wasn't on the up and up. They told me that they loved me, that I would be perfect, then I heard nothing from them ever again. Didn't pan out. I probably failed to titillate some test audience in Cleveland, perhaps it was the double chin. Maybe I wasn't pliable enough?
Which is okay because I don't think that I could live under the television microscope and my native misanthropy has also been in reality steadily increasing. Not sure if I am quite ready for primetime. A lot of what passes for reality these days honestly turns me off anyway. But maybe I am a little bummed that I was jilted. Woman said she would be back to me within a week...
I had a brief and heavy affair with Facebook, something that I broke off about 10 days ago. A little too seductive and time consuming. I reconnected with some old chums, a couple old girl friends. Had some great facebook pals, Jeff in Omaha the funniest. Unfortunately like usual, I over shared and finally had to pull the plug on myself. The open microphone to the world caused a little too much mental chatter.
We are quickly headed to or have already arrived at an always on world, in a state of perpetual outrage of one sort or another. But the Facebook medium doesn't lend itself to deep intellectual discourse, more of a scattergun affair and I never felt like I could adequately scratch my literary itch with the damn thing. Plus there's always a few friends of friends that turn out to be rabidly rightwing, left wing, antisemitic or dumb and you are forced to get into some really stupid discussions to defend your take on things.
You do find out things you didn't know about your friends on Facebook and I probably accidentally opened up some areas of my life to the world that were better off not revisited or shared. I think that the whole concept of all of a sudden reconnecting to the kid that sat next to you in the fourth grade is a little bit weird.
The sum total of your life compresses and suddenly you remember that there is a reason that you moved on and away from some folks. I had a boarding school roommate connect with me and I realized that he was more patronizing than ever and that I never needed to communicate with him again. I suppose we could write letters if we really need to.
And then there are those people that can fart or talk about the runny eggs they had for breakfast and get three hundred likes. An artist friend of some celebrity calls the social media sycophants "nutlickers". Facebook and social media is creating all sorts of new tactical social problems. Saw somebody apologize for blocking somebody out the other day, always a delicate matter. Should probably have its own verb soon.
I think I would rather blog. Not as often as I used to but when the passion hits me. Nice to talk to you again.
I AM IN SANTA FE, HOLED (whoops, caps) up in a long term hotel. Had a show in Albuquerque that didn't go real well, didn't make expenses last week. Hard Rain as Dylan might say. Been battling a little depression. Business has been steady but I'm not getting ahead, slowly sliding and the specter of the precipice looms, even if self constructed. I have had the gallery for 17 years now, a really long time. I get singles and doubles throughout the year but have depended on three or four home runs each year to keep me in the chips. Haven't had one for a long while.
Threw the i ching the other day, stagnation changing to oppression or something like that, the second and third lines changing - lousy time approaches, the time of the good man wanes, go hide, don't allow yourself to be honored with revenue - well fine but tell me, just how do I pay the mortgage?
Had dinner with BigDave and four twenty somethings a few months back, they all had sold their individual software companies for over 20 million. Not one of them had a painting in their house, they confessed to favoring performance and more electronic art, definitely not 2d or sculpture. No affinity for anything pre 1970 I would guess. Does not portend well for those of us rooted in the classical and I think that I will probably go down with that ship, not seeing any other vessels that I can really believe in at present. Hard to sell that which does not appeal to you. On a related note, kids are really liking this clubby, thumpy bass music right now, some days the new gym is murder.
Doing fairly well physically, asthma problem ever-present, over weight. My room has a kitchen and I am going to try to do more cooking this trip. I am going birding at the Audubon park with my friend Steve in the morning. Weather is beautiful and New Mexico is inordinately green this summer.
I have a long essay percolating, will hope to get into it soon. Best,