(Unpainted Huffheinz, edition 1)
Spring is here. The beautiful days are split up evenly by rainy days that aren't exactly cold but they are neither very pleasant. For all of my complaints I really do love New York and I will miss it if we leave. I will even miss the rainy days spent alone or with Rachel. Rain in New York is wonderful when you don't have to work. If you have to commute through the rain then it is a sky filled with liquid misery, a sky that's always heading south. To ride your bike in the cold rain through the streets of New York is one of the most common, dangerous and joyless acts that man has devised.
Yesterday I hit 300 published posts to this site. I have been wanting to find a selection of posts that would function as a resume, of sorts. Any suggestions would be welcome. I am trying to get yet another real job. One can not have too many jobs in these uncertain times.
I have been working to make arrangements to interview a local street-artist but it has been difficult. The people involved do not seem interested. Either that or they are skeptical of any white guy with a camera asking questions. I do look like a cop, I guess. I probably sound like a lawyer. They have plenty of troubles of their own right now and probably don't need any additional ones. I wrote an entry that I have not posted yet because I don't want it jeopardizing my chances of the interview or the possibility of getting footage of him getting out of jail. I will go and try again today. To talk with the contacts I've met and hope for the best, hope that what I say doesn't scare them. Perhaps I can convince them that I'm a fireman rather than a deputy or detective.
I sat and chatted with a friend last night. We discussed aging, the difficulty involved with the maintenance of the self, the near impossibility of it. I said that, I'm half the man that I used to be but twice the size. Everything hurts, mirrors most of all. I've tried to start exercising again, knowing that it will confer benefits, that it relieves pain and makes brave the spirit. But it is a hard sell. My mind rejects it flatly. My inner-monologue can be quite convincing. I have written volumes of closing arguments with myself on the shadow of doubt, the questionable benefit of a pushup. I start with attacking the value of one repetition then I expand the argument to the entire process. I am prepared to appeal the case half the way to the supreme court, or until I'm out of breath, whichever occurs first. Perhaps I am a lawyer, a flagging ambulance chaser, quickly losing ground....
I told my wife that if this street-art project gets off the ground then there's a reasonable likelihood that I will get arrested filming it. The police make a distinction between those committing an act of vandalism and those recording an illegal act with the intention of distribution. It would mean that my camera would be seized and I would be thrown in jail, only getting my camera and freedom back with difficulty and great expense. So, I might very well be looking for donations through this site soon. Get your $5 bills ready. Send them directly to my bail bondsman, he awaits on retainer and 24 hour call... Inquire with the clerk for details.
I'm selling signed and dated prints to the works above and below. These would look great in your bathroom, bedroom or boudoir... the finest selection in fixtures and appointments.
(Unpainted Huffheinz, edition 2)