8 years ago I lived in a Brooklyn apartment near Greenwood cemetery – a fantastic, gothic and wild place that could make for another story – and when I moved to my current house, I left a bunch of paintings with my landlady, who lived next door. I of course assumed I would come back within a few days or weeks to pick them up, but you see, I have a character flaw: I procrastinate. Oh, and I misplace and forget. I left the art with her for almost eight years. I lost touch with her and her husband until one day on the subway she walked up to me and said “I thought that was you, Tom. I recognized the paint all over your pants.” After I composed myself and shrugged off the embarrassing realization that I stumble through life with raw umber smeared all over my wardrobe, we reconnected. She had given birth to a baby boy during the first few months I had lived in the apartment, now her son was 12 . Well, she asked me to paint the young man. I couldn’t say no. I mean, she had been a free storage facility for some of my and my dad’s paintings for almost a decade. But more than that, She and her husband are wonderful people.
This is currently in a working stage. I’ll post the finish when it’s done. If it doesn’t suck.
WIP, oil, wax crayon & oil stick on board, 24″ x 18″