As an artist in New Orleans, I get to share wild stories populated with carriage rides and crack addicts, swing dancers and swingers, blinding beauty and burgeoning crime. Truth is stranger than fiction, and this is rarely more true than here in the City That Care Forgot.
I’ve spent 25 years criss-crossing the country, selling my work at renaissance festivals, sci-fi cons, BDSM conventions and anywhere else people are bored with paintings of landscapes. (I even wrote a book about it: "Lightsurfing: Living Life in the Front of My Mouth", an anecdotal, autobiographical journey of what it takes to carve your own path in the world. (It's got cool pictures if you don't feel like reading. You can order it on Amazon, and you can see my paintings here.)
But that sparkling whirlwind, working with thousands of festival-goers in every flavor of weather, driving for a week, and sleeping in the back of my car, has taken its toll. The business brain is diametrically opposed to the brain that needs space to birth these visions into the world.
It is my hope that you, beloved patron, will help me do what I was put on the planet to do!
PS: (I plan to eventually make "New Work" posts open to the public, but my Patrons get to see it first!)