like a rusty nail.

"A recording of time indefinite" faired as a wonderful opening in Birmingham. I was really pleased with the overwhelming turnout and all the new people I met. The show officially closes November 1, 2009. It will be quite a while before I release another mixed media body of work, so this would be good opportunity to see some of the paintings.

Since the show opened on the 1st of October a lot of changes have taken place in my life. We said fair well to our city loft and moved to a quaint little 1940's house. It's an old captains quarters from WWII -so it's still got some charm...and some quirks. So peaceful out here... But it was still an interesting adjustment after living a couple of years in an old school gymnasium.

On a sad note, we lost a dear family member on October 2nd. I have written before about my uncle who used to get us into the local pool for almost free in the summers---his sweet wife Denise suddenly passed the night after the birmingham show opening. I have never mentioned before-- but -My uncle is blind and can hardly see shadows, in fact most of his days are spent seeing complete blackness no color- no movements. One of the most memorable moments I have of the two of them was at their wedding years ago- it was at the town recreation center (folding metal chairs and all)---but I can remember the sweetness of watching two people completely in love commit their lives to each other. He had never even seen her-- but he loved her. It was a sweet time for me to be young and apart of something real and unadorned. just simple love...with blinders on. I found it interesting that I wrote of my uncle and the local pool towards the beginning of painting "A recording of time indefinite" and now at the end of the show I write again about him. Call it coincidence if you like, but the routes of "time indefinite" are curious and unexpected. I am thankful for family and for times of sincere reflection, and most of all the powerful existence God. When I asked my uncle how he was doing last he said, "i'm like a rusty nail, just hangin' in there."

I'm glad I could honor Glen and Denise today.

A true recording of time indefinite.