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Michael Evans, painter of light - full frame

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

The past week in Robertville. the continuing saga


Was a long week. Tuesday was the election and I was on the road the next morning. My wife did not win, bless her heart. Her opponent billed himself as the non woke candidate and I listened to a podcast he did on a Christian radio station. I think the religious right was really gunning for the school boards.

Unfortunate.

I am proud of her for trying and throwing her hat in the ring. 

I left at six in the morning. For some reason, my GPS told me not to take the standard 91/71/210, to instead go north on the 15. I did so but somehow missed the turn for the mile and a half jag to the 395. 

The next thing I knew I was stuck in the middle of the Mojave desert. Hesperia, Phelan, Adelanto. Oh shit, what have I done?

After a long period on the Old 395 I wondered what would happen if I just shined on the show and drove to Bishop or Mono Lake and enjoyed myself? Would the world come to an end? In any case, the show must go on and besides, I didn't bring a camera.

Next thing I know I am driving past Boron, the place where my friend Kevin was imprisoned for several years for growing a couple pot plants.

Leslie and I visited him very early on.

It was actually pretty driving across the Tehachapis on the 58 but it took about eleven hours to do it and I was pretty fried.

I checked in to the dingy Motel. 

Warmboe came by and picked me up and we had dinner at Max's.

I had their excellent broth and tasteless matzoh balls and bantered with my friend.

The next day was my birthday. 67, if you need to know. 

Either an old fossil or a spring chicken, depending on your personal vantage.

I set up my booth, only to find that they were short eight foot walls for an important dealer who was pretty finicky and rather put out.

I told them to take mine and to give me shorter ones so they didn't have to build more. 

They were very appreciative but it meant I would not have walls paper or lights in my 32' booth until the next day. 

It would be very tight making everything work in my setup, an interesting challenge.  

It usually takes me a day and a half and this was an incredibly large booth. 

I must say that henceforth on, the crew could not have been nicer.

I managed to get it all together and finish and went back to the hotel to change for my birthday dinner.

I picked a Hong Kong style Cantonese restaurant that Dave, Melissa and I had eaten at before. HL Peninsula Pearl in Burlingame.




Alyssa, Loughlin, Dave, Melissa, Paulina and Warmboe joined me. 

The food was delicious and I think it was a good choice. Lobster noodles, duck braised in blood orange, fried rice, pork chops, ginger beef, sweet and sour, we went for it.

At least one of our party was a conservative Republican and with nerves being so frayed I let word out prior to our supper that there would be no political discussion. 

We didn't miss it.

All I can say is America, you made your bed. 

You deserve everything that you are about to get. 

More politics later, if and when I am finally able. 

Matt Gaetz, Attorney General. 

Clown show. 

Really putting your best foot forward.












Next day the show opened. I had a really good day, selling five or six nice paintings. No home runs but some good sales. Hot dog.

Unfortunately, like the Palm Springs Show from ten days prior, the next day I sold very little.

Sunday was nothing. I wasn't despondent but I know that I will have to kill next week in Santa Barbara to take any financial pressure off.

Hopefully I will do okay. You never know.

My old friend Fred Salazar came by. 

He had been absent from the show scene for years. 

We used to go to blues clubs in the city after the shows in the old days. The Saloon, Slims.

I miss Fred, it was good to see him. So many people left the antique world, either by choice or on a gurney. Once we filled six rooms, now we barely make a half a room.

But the people that are left, my fellow dinosaurs, are survivors and very good at what they do. 

The only ones left.

Where is that comet again? Strike us quick.

I lost a great friend to pancreatic cancer on my birthday, Linda Wilson. 

She fought the great fight, went out on her own terms.  By the time it was diagnosed it was too late.

She was a dynamo in Fallbrook, one of the most incredible and charismatic people I have ever met.

She will be sorely missed. 

Loved her and still love her husband Peter.

I am so happy that I got the opportunity to know her and to be her friend.

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Not much else to report. Breakfast at Christies ever morning. Another dinner or two at Max's with Bill, JP and Alyssa.

I stayed at Bill's my last night.

His place is quite a trip.



Crazy piles of this and that.

Tortured doll parts and lovely flowers and pottery.

After breakfast with Bill Monday morning I got back on the road. It still took me ten hours to return, fell asleep at a rest stop, exhausted. Drank a red bull and promptly fell asleep. This shit is getting harder and harder to do, especially three shows in four weeks.

This Fosters freeze going to seed on the 5 was about the only interesting site I saw.

If I had brought my good camera I would have wandered inside.



I got back Monday night, quite grouchy, poor Leslie. I apologize. Too much time in traffic sours my disposition.

So that's it. A decent week, some good sales, a few leads. Good food, great friends on my birthday. I am about to do something I haven't done in 39 years tomorrow. I am going to paint again, I was asked to be in a show. 

I sold a painting today. 

Tomorrow I will buy canvas and get prepared to dive in to painting again, see if I still have it. Which reminds me, this great quote was on the Fallbrook School of the Arts a few months ago. I really like it.

3 comments:

Finest said...

Whew! It was close. How close? For all the blame gaming on the left, it really came down to luck. That mysterious entity that pervades all life's sagas, if only four voters out of every one hundred across seven swing states had changed their votes, the veep throat candidate would be dancing in Kamelot. Like the bullet in Butler, America dodged a big one.

They pulled a sock puppet out of the typing pool and tried to Rope-a-Dope her into the Oval Office, after four years epitomizing John Nance Garner's description of the VP's office as a "Bucket of Warm Spit". She blew through a billion with a "B" of other people's money on her way to losing to Hitler, and ending in debt. America saw through it somehow, despite being wowed by the likes of Liz Cheney and Beyonce/Willie Nelson,
and Oprah walking away with a cool mill, win or lose. Just imagine what K. Harris would have done to the US treasury in the next four.

There's a new sheriff in town, same as the old one.

Pete Townsend

Anonymous said...

1. “Tehatchipi (sp?) to Tonepah”….Lowell George
2. Come the end of January, I am going to get me a tee shirt made for the gym…maga colors-message: I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU SO
3. It is a minimum of 5 years to get your first black belt in AIKIDO. You are called SHODAN, and it means beginner. So you spend five years getting ready to be a beginner. It is said that that is when the REAL learning ego s.

Blue Heron said...

My little brother John took aikido. I used to work out with some aikido people that would occasionally come to the Hung gar kung fu school I practiced at. Wonderful art, we share many of the same concepts about commanding the center of the wheel.