Dear Dr. Bob,

A few things:

The "What's the word?" contest, was won by the lovely Penelope, She came up with "Lost". Which was the correct answer. Sorry about there being no link. Her website moved and I'm on a foreign computer that doesn't have her new address. I'll fix it later, I promise.

Anywho...Penelope is going to get one of my wine paintings for her effort. Hope she likes it.

Any and all future paintings have been put on hold. My muse is away.

I feel behind on everything. I seem to be fraying a bit at the edges. I can't even remember the last time I had anything worth writing down.

Our house guests are still with us. Enough said about that.

The dream job progresses. Still very exciting and still a bit dreamy. Precious has gone rogue and started working as an independent dealer from home. (I'm jealous) We're trying to get a patent on one of her inventions. A hideous undertaking. So much BS. We're also trying to start a pet care business. It's much more specific than that but I 'm not going to go into it now.

I get very little time with Precious and Mr. Man lately, so I'm treasuring it when ever I can.

I've gone back to lurking around the interwebs, as I very much enjoy reading about all of you and will continue to. Just don't have much to contribute right now.




See you when I see you...

MW

Sunny And 78...

We managed to visit almost all of the galleries in La Jolla and Laguna yesterday. Talked with people we haven't seen for two years. Both towns are beautiful. We're leaning towards going back to La Jolla. I have not taken more than a few photos so far. To busy soaking it all up I guess. I may try to open a gallery in La Jolla if I can negotiate a good lease, rents are very high their. For the right space it would be well worth it.

I am sun burned and tired. We drug ourselves home last night, this morning at 3:30 am. Ate great food with good friends. Drank expensive wine that someone else paid for. Sat around a fire pit by the beach until we shivered uncontrollably. It gets a little cold at night when the fire dies. So far it's been much fun.

Clear, blue, not a cloud in site, warm, beautiful sky.

People watching at the Pacific Beach Board Walk.

Sunset over the Ocean Beach Pier.

New shoes.

When I Was 14...

Would you want to be 14 again? I recently answered no to that question. As hard as life has been at times, it's only gotten better. I couldn't relate. Being a teenager was hard.

Or was it?

When I was 14 I got my first job. A gas station and car wash. It was where I met my best friend. He's one of the few I have stayed in touch with. He's more family.

I lived in Montana which meant that I was able to drive. Sort of. I lived out in the boonies and was allowed to to drive when I had to get to school or work. It was still really cool. Town kids had to wait another year.

The teachers went on strike that year. I missed the last quarter of the school year and didn't have to make it up.

When I was 14 I was contacted by a professional scout for the Cincinnati Reds. They flew me to several different cities to catch for major league pitchers. Very cool. I was going to the show baby!

When I was 14 I fell in love. She called me on the phone and asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance. (The girls asked the boys) She had heard that some one else was going to ask me so she called. I said yes. She taught me things about being in love that I never forgot.

All of the sudden I remembered things that had long been forgotten and I understood.

With so much out in the world to see and do I never dreamed of wanting to go back. I look forward and follow my heart. It was when I was 14 that I learned how to follow my heart. 14 was a pretty good year.

Poof...Gone...

How often do people disappear?

Have you noticed it? One day they're there, the next day they're gone. Sometimes I wonder if they were really there to begin with. I don't have the best memory in the world. Did I imagine these people?

Many times it has been my fault. I have a problem letting people get close to me. I move more often than most. It can be hard to get to know someone anyway. Always being the new kid make you build walls. It is easier that way. When I leave, I usually don't even have to say goodbye, so I don't. One day I"m just gone.

Lately I have been thinking about the others like me. Where did they go? Do they think about me and wonder?

Over the years I have met some wonderful people the I will never forget. I wish at times that I had tried to keep in touch with them. I didn't. I didn't try. One day I was just gone.

I know I'm not the only one like me. I have know many others who simply disappeared one day. Without a word. Without a trace. Life is so short and so fast most of the time. I have learned to let go more easily than most. Is it society that has made people...disposable? For lack of a better word.

Blogging has made me think about it much more than I used to. I notice it more now. A person that you meet on your site will leave comments or emails. You respond. It's like you know one another. Then one day the emails and the comments stop.

If they are a blogger themselves you can always check on them. Visit their site. Sometimes the site is gone. I wonder what happened to them. Why they stopped blogging. When I moved, I packed my things and physically left the place I was. In blogging it doesn't matter where you are. Did they not like it? Was it one of us that drove them away? Was it something we said?
Maybe they took it personally.

I used to take it personally when someone would disappear. People I thought were my friends, but I guess were just acquaintances. Sometimes I think about trying to find a few of them. This has been heavy on my mind since Shelly's sister contacted me. Shelly was like me. One day she was gone and no one knew why or where or what happened.

Of all of the people I have know that disappeared on me. I wonder if any of them died. There are 15 of you that I know have died. Is that why the others are gone, or did they just go somewhere else to start over? How many of them think I died?

With blogging it is never really that personal. It's not like I actually know any of you. I have met a few of you, once. Several of you that used to visit don't any more. Your gone from my blog but I know you're still out there. I can see you. Was it me? No, really?

A few of you stopped blogging. Just gone one day. You are the ones I wonder about the most.

There are about two dozen people I have know in real life that I think about on a regular basis. Almost daily. I knew some of them for years. Some were very close for the time we were together. I moved, they moved, and it's over. Gone.

With six billion people on the planet, it is things like this that make me feel very alone. At any minute one or all of you could be gone. So could I.

Will I ever stop thinking about them? I most likely wont run into them on the street one day. Is it worth digging through the past to find them? Do I need that closure? Probably not, but a few of you left a lasting impression on my heart, mind and soul. It is you in part that has inspired my latest series of works. They are all about "Isolation". Each lonely beach is one of you. One of us. Me.

Spring Unveiling...Part Three

What an unbelievably long weekend. Frank Gonzales spent a couple of days painting three works for us. People love to come in, watch and ask questions. Frank was great with all of it.
He made his paintings seem way too easy. Take it from me, they're not. That is where the talent and skill come in. Frank has plenty of both. It was great to have him in the gallery.

Everyone else had a great time also. Plenty of laughs, food and drink. Too much drink.

Business was slower than we had hoped. It could have been my attitude. I don't like doing these kind of events. Maybe it could have been better with a different mind set.

Saturday night we had a couple other gallery owners, artists and friends over to our house after hours. I love to hang around artists. They are seldom dull and they see things quite different than most. Everything is a potential art project or idea for a project.

Sunday morning Precious was up early baking. We had a brunch reception at the gallery. She did a fantastic job. I ate way too many cream puffs.

Our partners are still involved just enough to be a real pain. I wont elaborate.

This coming week we have to finalize what we're going to do with the gallery. Either we sign on for a year and half on the gallery and two years on our house or we pack up the house, move for the next five months and close the gallery in September. It has gotten kind of nuts with the two leases. They don't end at the same time which is causing a problem. We are still torn. Do we stay here or move to San Francisco. Maybe go somewhere else. Work for ourselves, or work for someone else. Quality or quantity. This or that. Then or now. Click or clack. I thought we had this all figured out a month ago. Landlords can be fickle. Why do most things alway come down to money? I hate that.

Every Silver Lining Has A Dark Cloud...

When you get yourself into a bad situation, you think that you would sell your soul to get out of it. Then one day someone comes along and offers you something better. This someone isn't just anyone. It's someone that you have known and trusted for almost twenty years. This someone has been responsible for some of your best breaks.

Even though my father always told me, "Never do business with family or friends...when money is involved you can always count on your loved ones to fuck you over." How true. I despise money.

I went against my better judgment, because I wanted out of where I was, so bad.

The contract was never actually produced so it was never signed. The promises made have gone by the wayside.

The venture that was to cost us nothing, has now drained several tens of thousands out of our savings.

The great offer that was to deliver us from the bad situation has now officially become a night mare worse than our previous reality. Hind sights a bitch.

Ulcers, anxiety attacks, sleepless nights have become SOP.

I have never been so upset at myself. Dragging my family across country, on a promise and a hand shake only to make things worse than they were before.

Hanging by our teeth for the last eight months, we just can't hang anymore.

Never go against your gut. My gut told me to go slow. Instead I rushed in and got clobbered. I hate it when I do this kind of stupid shit. I knew better. Damn, I knew better!

The sound you are hearing: A dream being run through a meat grinder and tossed into the gutter to be forgotten.

I have spent my life following my dreams. Without them I have nothing to live for. I have had my hopes dashed and my heart broken many times. This time it feels much more personal. Maybe it's Mr. Man. I have to make sure that he is taken care of. I told myself that I could trust this someone because he knew I had Mr. Man to care for.

I walked right into it, wide eyed and blind. FUCK!

Questions...

I have more questions for all of you.

Of those of you out there, that are in relationships. Living with another person, married, seriously dating...

Of those of you with blogs, how many of you have your partner blog as well?
Do they have their own site? Do they share your site? Do they guest post on your site from time to time.

Did they have a blog when you met? Did they start blogging after you did or want to blog because you were?

What are your thoughts on this. Feel free to give answers to questions that I may have not asked, or share stories of couples blogging. Good, bad or ugly.

Game On...

Our volleyball team has managed to make it into the play offs. Alright, to be fair, all the teams made it. As bad as we are, we were not in last place. Next to.

Yesterday was our first play off game. We won. Yes I said that right. We won. Fine, the other team had to forfeit because only two of them showed up. Still a win. The momentum is ours now.

Tomorrow night we play game two. Here I am at practice calling the shots.


Oops, my bad. We don't practice. Different game. Not me. Although I do look good in a speedo.

Where Do Loyalties Lie...?

I am wondering about human nature as related to my world. Fine Art.
People that come through my gallery, or any gallery, look at us as sales people. No different than cars, vacuums or household fixtures. I have spent my life studying art. And yet, sales are sales. To most.

The difference is that I will not say things just to make a sale. No matter what gallery I have work for I have a terrible habit of telling potential collectors exactly what I think of a work or of an artist. Often it has cost me sales. In my mind, I want the collector to know they can trust me. I would rather they passed on something now if it meant they would come back to me later. A lie now might make a sale. Truth will make a client. I want clients.

The art business is about relationships. Art is unlike anything else people buy. Art can be immortal. It will(if cared for) last for hundreds of years or more. Art will almost always hold its value. Quality work will hold its value at worst. At best it will grow to limitless amounts. Art is a reflection of ones personality. Most will go through several sofas, chairs, window treatments etc over the years. The art they will keep. It will become a family heirloom and be passed down from generation to generation.

One of the things I have a hard time with in this business is client loyalty. I expect clients to be loyal to me, because I have earned it over the years by being honest with them. Even if they want to buy a work that I don't handle, I always think they should ask my opinion or ask if I can get them the work. If I think it is a good work at a good value I tell them to buy it. Keep the client, build relationships.

Being an art dealer I get to know some clients very well. We are a part of their lives in a personal way. We are invited to their homes. We know the families. We talk to them about getting married, divorced, having kids and sometimes death. When was the last time their car or refrigerator salesman was involved in their lives like that?

We had been in San Diego for eight years before coming here to open our own gallery.
Eight years is longer than most marriage's last. They stop being clients and become friends. At least, to me.

Having been in this same business for as long as I have, I realize that when I change galleries, most of my clients will not follow me. No matter how well I know them or how long I have know them. They will stay with the gallery not the consultant.

Every time this surprises me. I still think to myself, they should be loyal to me. Not the gallery. Clients are all over the world. They very seldom came to the gallery in person. They would call, ask for me. Or email. I provide the service for them. And yet they are loyal to the gallery, not me.

When we decided to move from San Diego to come here, I talked to the Director about clients. He was worried that we would take all of his business. I remember telling him that most of them would not follow us. And now, I am still surprised that they didn't. Even though I knew I shouldn't, I expected their loyalty.

We still talk with many of them. It's awkward now. Like talking to an old lover. It's polite but with a nervous tension. You both know it will never be the same. Eventually we will stop talking.

I know that the longer we are here, that we will make new clients and friends. I know that when we leave here, that most will not follow us. Each time this craziness starts over from the beginning.

I don't get it. Never have, most likely never will.