Parents

I skyped my mom and dad tonight, taking them on a digital tour of my studio. I showed my mom a painting and when I turned the camera back to me, this is the face that she was making. Her reaction to my art was was frozen on the screen due to wifi delays. I took a screenshot. 

The World's Biggest Joint

I bought a large tub of heavy gel medium, a retractable blade kinfe, and a huge bottle of glue. I am happily using the glue and gell medium for my paintings. I will use the knife to sharpen large pencils. 

Afterward, I walked to Henx graffiti shop to see my friend Giulia. She was there. I was happy to see her and we talked about events around the city. I met Mingus, the store owners son who referred me to his mother's clothing shop next door. Her name was Lucanne, or Lucy. She told me about her shop and the growth of Henx, her husband's shop. I found an incredible jacket with an interior lining screen print of a typographic design that reads Every Thing is Going to be Great. Lucy cut me a deal on it. 

I saw Gulia again and she told me to get a bike at the market down the street, being Saturday. I walked to the market, and shopped around for a bike. There were three little outposts selling bikes, but I do not doubt that they were in the same operation. Their bikes were held together largely by zip-ties. I rode one of their bicycles around the block and the whole thing was fucked, for lack of a better term. I offered the guy 30 euros for it. He wanted 70. It was a scam.

 I walked to an ATM to get some batering money, then on my way back a man in a wheelchair saw me walking and said "here's your bike", pointing in the direction of the only two bicycles he had to sell. The bicycle was perfect. I took it for a spin. He wanted 50 euros for it, so I payed him, then bought a lock from another vendor for 10 euros. 

I restocked on levervurst and bread, and went back to the studio for lunch. I went to the cafe where I am now frineds by name with the servers and ordered a cappuccino. I made a drawing of the street on the bottom of a coaster and a woman named Nelly, who was walking down the street with her husband, saw it and asked me if she could buy it. She told me a story of how the last time she saw an artist like me, she wished that she'd bought the work. I asked for 3 euros, and she talked me down to two. I agreed and signed the coaster. The only other woman in the cafe was watching me draw it the whole time, and my negotiations with Nelly, so I made a second drawing. I paid for my drink, then brought the work over to her and her firend (whom took her seat during the drawing). She and her friend were thrilled that I wanted them to see. They loved the work, and I sold it to Camilla or Cami for 2 euros. So basically, I went to the cafe, and made a euro! 

I took a bike ride and found a plastic tub which I can use as a bath for washing my sculptures with pigments. Back in the studio, I gave a sculpture a bath, streched an old tshirt around a piece of drywall for a canvas, and put more work into the paintings. I also rolled the biggest joint ever. I made it from all of the garbage that I've made since I came to Amsterdam. Paper scraps, wrappers receipts etc. all made it into the joint. I made a video of it's making and may post it below as a link. I think it is the funniest thing in the world. 

http://youtu.be/NbcIqGOinoM

Good Garbage Day

Today I made nice progress on a few paintings as well starting a few sculpture variations attuned to the painting style. The body of work is beginning to resemble a show, and I will be happy to start talking to galleries soon. Tomorrow night one of the galleries that I am considering will be having a night of drinks for the closing party of a show, and I will be happy to attend. 

I found some good garbage today, wires and drywall pieces. 

Josine visited my studio to look at some of my bigger works in progress, and way happy that everything was clean. She said that the environment looked healthy, which I regard as a high compliment. I have yet to play any music in this space, as the city sounds blend together to create a beautiful ongoing song. 

Amsterdam On The Hunt

I became aligned with the Dutch time schedule, then began to fall behind again. The fluctuations seem to vary depending on how late into the night I continue painting. I began a few larger works of my black, white, and ochre paintings. The works are dynamic and subjective, with landscapes and forms emerging from abstractions, suggested by my further rendering. I am painting and drawing these pieces on found objects from the city, and making the drawings while in different areas of the city. I feel like they are closely related to the ether of the city itself. 

I am in the scouting phases for now, but am looking for a gallery to display my work. I have walked in a few prospects which I like, but will begin really searching as the work begins to resemble a show. Tonight, I am waiting on a few paintings to dry, as I have begun using an impasto technique with acrylic, oil, and heavy medium. 

I made a drawing on the bottom of an Amstel coaster a few days ago at a cafe, then developed it into a painting at home. The next day, I went back and asked my waiter, Gideon if he could spare some more coasters, which he happily agreed to. He gave me 17 coasters. Wahoo! So now I have 18 little coaster paintings that I would like to mount somehow for the show tba. Another mounting challenge will likely be a piece of cardboard which I have painted on. I would like the advise of an artist, which I am happy to know such great ones as my friends. 

This afternoon I went for a long wak to get some food and art supplies. I came accross a great trapezoidal shaped box which held a kids guitar at one point, and a sheet of MDF board. I sat down at a cafe with my findings and had a cappuccino and a croissant, then went to the Albert Hein market to buy more leverwurst. After buying food, I came accross a great clothing shop, where I bought what I believe is my new favorite shirt. 

Back home I worked on paintings, and ate a great lunch.

This evening I went for a walk casulally keeping my eye open for the chance that I happen upon some string to make some sculptures to go with the paintings. I did not find any string, but explored some new areas of the city, that I was excited to see. I met two pairs of American girls, and a group of London girls all by sensing that they wanted to take a photo together. I hammed it up as a photographer and gave everyone a laugh. The london girls were exploring Europe by Eurail, which I am now looking into for some forthcoming travels. They gave me some good advise on fares. We had a great conversation about names after I introduced myslef. I was talking to a Jemima for sometime and when I inquired about her name she told me a great story of Job from the bible, who had three daughters. The youngest daughter was Jemima, and the young woman I was speaking to was the youngest of three daughters. It was said that Job's daughters were the most beautiful in the land, which I can attest Jemima was. 

I came across the Rijksmuseum later on my walk. I didn't know it was the Rijks for some time, I went to the building because it was beautiful, then stayed for some time to listen to a fantastic saxophone player. He was playing under the central outdoor atrium of the museum, and the acoustics were astounding. He finished his playing, and upon leaving I realized where I was. 

Back home, I made some marks with ochre gouache on the USPS sticker character drawings, adopting them into the new body of work. 

Amsterdam Work

This morning I met Robert, a friend of the Dennis Family's who was in the house to do repairs. After Robert left, he had a conversation with Josine about some dust that I'd generated in the living space while cutting drywall for a series of paintings that I am working on. Josine came up to my room to see for herself, and spoke on behalf of the family that I keep my space tidy. This serves as a lesson for me that you never know when you might have a visitor to your studio. It is best to keep things clean for this reason, and for clarity of mind while creating. I spent my afternoon cleaning, then went out for a coffee. I made a few drawings on drink coasters which I am happy about, and plan to work into my expressionistic recent body paintings. I asked the server, Gideon, for more coasters and he handed me a stack of a dozen. 

After coffee, I took a walk to search for scrap wood or cardboard that I might/could paint on. I am using my surfaces faster than I can get them, and I find painting on something that was already deemed garbage liberating. I came across and old sign for children's nursery, which I happily took, as well as some cardboard scraps. I brought everything back to the house and set out again to buy some supplies. I went to the art store, just around the corner, and picked up a bucket of gesso, some heavy acrylic medium, charcoal, black and white spray paint, a large cheap brush, a white out pen, and some craft paper. 

After the art store, I went to a street-art store called Henxs, where I bought a couple interesting markers and met a new friend Giulia. She and I talked about each other's work. I showed her my website, and she showed me hers. She makes soft toys and installations with drawings and fabrics that rule. She mentioned that if I would like a place to draw, or if I would like to meet some friends in the art community, that she would be happy to show me her studio, where she works with ten other artists. She gave me her phone number and said to keep in contact. Afterwards, I went straight to the phone store to get myself a track phone. I bought the cheapest one, with some prepaid minutes. 

I called Karen to let her know that all was well and that I now had a phone. She had already heard about the dust that I'd created. 

I tried calling my mom to no avail. 

I used all of the USPS stickers that I brought over for character drawings and will happily post the results below, as well as some of my abstract paintings. 

Amsterdam 8/26/13

After more time in Amsterdam, I find myself falling love with the city. I enjoy the shape of the city, and navigating on foot has served to occupy me for hours every day. The people are friendly and healthy. They seem to be leading ideal human lives. Quality resounds here. I feel safe, and well fed. I feel stimulated, and free. In general, I feel that my sense of self is heightened. 

I met two new friends in a felafel bar in the middle of the night outside of the red district. It was so late, my options were limited. The man, Uri asked me about some drawings that I was working on, little carachters. He and his lady friend, Elle, were out on their 5 year aniversary. Uri announced it to the whole felafel ber, then inquired if his lady could get a free drink. The young woman behind the counter gave Elle a free orange juice, and Uri was quite pleased. Uri and Elle wrote down a number of good places for me to visit in the city, cafe's and scenic vistas. 

I began a series of works which oppose my charachter drawings; one style is subjective, while the other is objective. I am mounitng the small paintings on found drywall.  

During one of my late night walks, I came across the Harry van Gestel gallery, I stood at the window front for some time, taken back by the freshness and liveliness the the space was radiating. It was closed, but I made note to return the next day upon waking. 

I set out walking to an electronics store, but being that it was Sunday, had no luck with finding one that was open. I went to the Harry van Gestel Gallery, and found two well dressed men talking with a man who was wearing red boots with flames on them, red shorts, and suspenders- it was Harry. He was fucking wild, pacing around the gallery hanging works up, taking works down with the help of his assistant, Thomas. Itermittingly he took breaks to sing Marlene Deitrich songs karaoke style at the top of his lungs. He would cry at the end of some performances. At six 'o clock, he began closing up his gallery. We smoked a joint together, and he invited me out for soup. On the way out the door, he told me to wait, then came back with a wrapped up painting, and told me to have it. The soup was great. I took the work of art home, and have at this moment, yet to open it. 

The next afternoon I met Harry at his gallery again around noon. I showed him some of my work, which he was pleased with. He shared some insightful philosophy with me, then invited me to help him with a painting. He took out one of the paintings that he had stacked against the wall in his gallery, and set it out on the floor. Then, he mixed acrylic paint with water in so it was transparent. He handed me four tubes of his paint mixture and told me to start painting. When I'd used all of the paint, he came with a pot of coffee and poured it onto the canvas. I felt out of art supplies, but he encouraged me saying that there is plenty to work with here. I went to the sink and got some water, then poured it onto the canvas. He asked me to look outside in the garden. I went ouside and grabbed ceramic plates and dirt. It all made its way onto the canvas. We smoked and stepped back, we made moves as we saw them, and after a while I took my paintings which I showed him and began using them as a tool to scrape dirt around the canvas with. He encouraged me. "That's the shit!"

I left the painting. We smoked and talked. Afterward, he picked up my paintings and handed them to me, pointing out how my work differed in quality from making that move and from our art works sharing energy. He was very excited about the direction the paintings had gone. I stayed to watch Harry work on his painting more. He brought out a thick paste and poured it out onto the canvas, sealing in all of the dirt and debris from our collaboration. I left the gallery in the afternoon, my paintings stayed behind. 

After leaving the gallery, I went by the AlbertHein market to pick up some edible supplies. I really enjoy being in a foreign market. When none of the products are familiar, I find it easier to shop based on quality and price rather than playing in to some sort of social identity based on consumption patterns. I bought bread, milk, muesli, levervurst, bananas, cheese, and blueberries. My diet thus far has been largely muesli, but I am excited to expand.

8/22-23

Upon arriving in Amsterdam, I took a can into town I meet Josine, friend if the Dennis Family, and co-owner of the Josine Bokoven gallery who agreed to meet me to deliver the house keys. 

Josine and I talked about her gallery and some of the artists she has shown, among them Carlos Granger, and Henk Hage. Josine departed for the night, and I began setting up my studio, unpacking my things and rearranging furniture were first priority. Next, I needed a work table, but I found no such thing in the house.  I took a walk around town, mapping dumpsters that might have scrap wood that I could build a table with. I went to the city center and through the red light district, before coming back. The red light district was an intense experience to wittness. I found a pile of wood that I would later revisit. I returned home and turned in for the night. 

I woke up in the afternoon and went downstairs to visit Josine in her gallery. I told her that I was on a mission to build a table, then set off to find more scrap wood. I spent most of the day walking. I bought some groceries to keep me from starving, and some art supplies for works on paper. In the evening, I found a stack of palettes and some scrap particle board. I went home to get a rope and hammer, then revisited my findings to harvest supplies to build my table.  At about midnight, I found myself walking back home with a bundle of wood tied together and slung over my shoulder. When I arrived back home, I began assembling my table. I used a handsaw and a hammer and nails to build the table. All measurements were done using twine. I used every piece of wood that I brought back. I am pleased with the results. I placed it in the front window so I can work with natural light throughout the day. It's position also makes me feel like I'm the captain of a huge ship. After the table was finished I shaded a few character drawings, and composed an abstract painting. 

European gouache is different than American gouache. 

The Wall 8/22/13

Today, I am en route to Amsterdam! I had a great time in New York as usual. I spent time with great friends, explored new places, and found time to finish a few art projects. I always leave New York feeling like I could've done more, but I suppose that's the nature of the city. 

I will digress momentarily to recount a mural project that became a three day event. Upon arriving in the city, I messaged my friend Lauren, inquiring if she knew of a Brooklyn rooftop that I could paint on. I had a few drawings that I was itching to get onto a wall. She referred me to her freind Shelly, whom I'd met once before at a house show. Shelly happily agreed to grant me access to her roof, and the next day, I went to her apartment building on Jefferson Street with paint and sketches. I started the day off with a vampire charachter that I thought would be fun and challenging to paint. I worked back and forth with black and white paint for a couple hours, then added a red-orange background for him. It looked great, but there was a lot of negative space in the bottom of his cape. The solution was obvious- 'Broooklyn!'

I was pleased with the charachter and moved on to paint the biggest wall on the roof. It was a few buildings down, and markedly the nicest roof of the block. I boisterously walked over and started painting a piece of graffiti. I was a couple hours in when I ran out of black paint. I took a walk to the local hardware store and bought a new can of rustoleum, then headed back to the building, where I'd left a playing card in the door jam to ensure that I would not be locked out. When I returned, the card was missing and I was locked out, but I knew it wouldn't be hard to get back in. The neighboorhood had a relaxed feel to it and I knew the firest person who I saw going in would likely let me in too. While I waited, I struck up a conversation with Gato, the local alcoholic stoop-sitter. I told Gato about my rooftop project and showed him photos. He was stoked. He began calling over his friends to show them, one of which was a young man about my age named Abel, who it turns out also wrote graffiti. Abel gave his credentials, crews that he is affiliated with, which were quite impressive. I told him that I'd be done with this mural soon, and I'd happily give him whatever paint I had left over from the project. He agreed and we designated a stolen shopping cart across the street as the drop off location. A friendly woman entered one of the buildings that led to the roof, and agreed to let me in. My first order of business on the roof was to put on some tunes from my phone, dance around and pee over the side of the fire escape, which in hindsight, was a mistake. Not two minutes later, an angry old man climbed onto the roof from the very spot which I had relieved myself to threaten to arrest me for trespassing. I gathered my things, apologized for any inconvenience and exited the building, where I relayed the story to Gato, then went home. 

I felt a dilemma which I'd thought I'd surpassed, one in which what I saw as positive change was perceived by others as negative change. It plagued me for the remainder of the night, but I knew I had to finish. I sceduled with Shelly to return the following day, so I could wrap it up. I only had about 20 minutes left on the peice. The following day, I went on the roof, confidence renewed, to finish the peice. I was painting well. As I made my way over the door section of the wall, someone began beating violently on the other side, startling me. A hispanic man stepped out of the doorway, followed by his girlfriend. He seemed really pissed off, and immediatly began interrogating me on how I got up here and my motives. I told him the truth, that I was from Florida, I'm visiting a friend in one of the buildings that has roof access, and I thought it would be a positive thing to make art up here. (It should be noted that the roof was already COVERED with tags, layers upon layers of them). He argued that he would have to paint over what I had done. He said there was someone up here yeaterday too. 

"I think that's the same kid," said his girlfriend. She began calling a name down the stairwell, to check if her intuition was right. She was calling for the first old man that had kicked me off the roof.  I apologized as before, packed my things and left again before we could confirm that I was one in the same. From here, I took a walk around the block to consider my options. I decided it was best to leave the peice alone. I returned to the building to put the paint in the shopping cart for Abel, but when I returned, there was an NYPD van parked out in front of the building. My heart began racing. I walked around the corner and hailed a cab. Things were getting serious, I had to get away from the scene of the crime. I caught the attention of a cab, the driver of which rolled his window down and told me that he had to drop off his passenger, but I should just follow him to the spot, around the corner. I followed the cab around the corner, back onto Jefferson Street, where he parked just behind the NYPD van. I hid behind a group of large hispanic men while I waited for his lady-passenger to gather her things, pay the driver, and exit the vehicle. I took off my hat and combed my hair backwards like a greaser in case I was described to the officers as wearing a hat. Regardless, I had a substantial beard, I was the only white person in a five block radius, and I was carrying a vintage baby blue vanity suitcase. The cab driver waved me over, and I hurreidly walked to the car, where I quickly impllored him to pop the trunk so I could throw my things in and look less suspicious. I jumped into the cab and declared, "to Red Hook!". The cab driver turned to me and said he needed an exact address. I insisted he start driving, he held his stance. I looked up the first Red Hook address I could find, my attention split between looking at my phone, and out the window at the NYPD van. Off we went, I asked the driver to drop me off at the F train, where I found my way back to the apartment to gather my things. I had a flight to catch later that night.

I thought the peice was a lost cause, so I decided to return to the scene of the crime to put the paint (now in a trashbag) in the spot whic Abel and I had agreed upon. When I got to Jefferson street who did I see but the second pissed off hispanic man who kicked me off the roof. I hid the paint in the shopping cart as promised to Abel, then walked up to the hispanic man. I introduced myself as the kid on the roof and told him that I would like to explain in full what I was doing earlier. He explained his side to me first which mostly had to do with the fact that he woul;d have to buy paint to go over what I had done. We came to an understanding of each other's points of view, and introduced ourselves. His name was Sammy. All seemed well in my world now, and I made my way to Leah's house to share the story with her before I caught my plane to Amsterdam. We lost track of time in conversation, and I left in a hurry to catch a cab to JFK. I arrived at the airport ten minutes too late for check in, and fought like a fish to remedy the situation, but there was no way I was getting on the flight.

I rescheduled my flight for the following evening, and thought about my options from here. At first I thought to stay in the airport, then I thought perhaps I'll go back to my temporary apartment in the Lower East Side. Then inspiration hit, of course! I could stay with Shelly and finish my peice in the middle of the night!

I called Shelly with the proposition. I am lucy she is such a welcoming host, she agreed. I made my way to her place where she and some friends were playing video games late into the night. When the friends went home around 3, I let SHelly know it was time to strike, and that I'd see her in the morning if all went well. This has turned into a covert mission. I snuck onto the roof as quiet as a mouse. rolling my feet from heel to toe, creeping slowly towards the wall. I hid my bag of paint behid a stairwell eve feature, and picked two colors to work with at a time. I crept to the wall, applying spray paint in a calculated manner until I felt the piece was finished. I stepped back and stared, then went to bed. 

In the morning I took a photo, then went to breakfast with her frineds Zac and Jay. 

After breakfast, we walked back to Jefferson Street, where we saw Gato sitting on a stoop. He recognized mme immediately. I told him that I'd finished the peice, despite oppopsition. I told him that I met the man who kicked me off, his name was Sammy. Gato laughed, Sammy was his son. 

"Don't take anything Sammy says seriously." he said, "he just had to kick you off because his girlfriend is the super." 

We had laugh and parted ways. I will remember Sammy and Gato if I ever return to Jefferson street. 

Later that night I boarded my flight to Sweden where I share this story with you. 

NYC 8/17/13

My final days in Tallahassee were spent packing and unpacking my suitcase, and running errands to wrap up a few projects, among them album art for one of my band's new 'single', and documenting some 'on the road' art which had been diminishing in quality due to riding around in my backpack for over a week. I called my parents often, knowing well that it will not be as easy to communicate when I get to Amsterdam. On the phone with my mom, I was happy to hear that she was coming up through Tallahassee, on her way to visit my sister in Panama City. The Dennis Family kindly offered to host her for dinner. She drove up the next day with her two dogs, a labradoodle and a shitzu-poodle mix, (they are too cute for words). I'd thought about my mom meeting the Dennis Family a number of times before this night, curious as to what we would talk about etc. Karen prepared an incredible meal as usual. The table filled with side dishes and quickly resembled a thanksgiving celebration. Conversation was natural and fluid. My mom seemed beside herself with love and gratitude, an effect being around the Dennis Family has on people. After dinner my mom and I exchanged gifts outside, and she continued on to meet my sister two hours west. 

Two days later, Carl drove me to the Greyhound station in the afternoon. I caught a bus to Jacksonville, then had a few hour layover before boarding a Chinatown bus to New York City. I arrived at the designated bus pick-up spot, an Exxon station by the Jacksonville airport. I went inside to inquire wether I was in the right place. The attendant assured me that I was but was adamant that Exxon had nothing to do with the bus. Continuing this conversation, she told me that the bus just "started showing up one day, three years ago.", and that everything that they know about the bus service comes from talking to patrons of the gas station. She said it is usually scheduled to come at 7:45pm, but was subject to delays. 7:45 came and went and I took comfort in my new friends insights. The bus arrived at 9pm to pick up myself and a few other passengers. There was a family that was turned away by an aggressive asian bus line employee for not having their confirmation numbers. They had already been waiting for three days at that point due to prior complications with the company. The bus was comfortable. I met my seat mate in Savannah, GA. His name was Paul. He was on his way to New York to get his belongings and apartment allocated before his travels to Bulgaria, where he would teach a psychology course in english to undergraduate students. We learned that we had the same departure date and acknowledged the serendipity. Paul was respectful and hygienic, the perfect companion for a 24 hour bus ride up the east coast.

Somewhere in North Carolina, our driver announced that the southbound bus from New York had blown a tire, the solution to which was to rent a bus from a third party company and take that down. The third party company however, did not want their bus traveling as far south as Florida, so the plan became to meet with our bus in the middle of the night, and transfer northbound passengers and cargo onto the new bus and southbound passengers and cargo onto our bus. We met the other bus in North Carolina at 4am. The bus lights turned on and the passengers scrambled to get their cargo from under our bus, and onto the new bus. It became quite chaotic, as the southbound bus was doing the same. I got my suitcase transferred onto the new bus and began stretching in the parking lot. 

I heard my name called, "Kemeys..?". I looked to see my friend Daniel, suitcase in hand and a guitar strapped on his back. Daniel and I have been friends for years through Cosby, his cousin and my classmate. It was great to see him, another batch of serendipity.

On our respective buses, we made our ways to our destinations. 

Our bus rolled into Chinatown, NYC in the afternoon. I walked to the intersection of Grand and East Broadway, where I would stay with my friends Franco and Andre for the next week. 

It feels like I never left. 

Tallahassee 8/11/13

While I was in New York, my band and I put together a two-week Southeastern tour. Our dates backed into early July and I had to fly back to Tallahassee, drive to my parents house 3 hours away, and practice the set with the band on the same day- one day before our first show of the tour. All of it worked out, but it was an abrupt end for NYC and an abrupt beginning of a two week tour.

Our tour was a success. We traveled from my parents house in central Florida to Jacksonville, where we played two shows. From there we went to Boone, Asheville, Greenville, Chattanooga, Nashville, New Orleans, Pensacola before returning to Tallahassee and playing two final shows. We made a ton of new friends and saw a lot of beautiful country. In Greenville we played a porch show for 3 people, in Chattanooga, we played in an old brothel. I had an intense session of eye contact with house cat at 6 in the morning in high elevation Appalachian Mountains amongst heavy fog. I craved alone time. And I drew often. The trip was surreal, and I had the time of my life.

After tour, I visited my parents house to sleep in and to prepare for more traveling.

Back to Tallahassee for a few nights, I made plans to paint a piece of graffiti on the roof spot of Capitol City Tattoos, a commission. We worked on the wall over the course of two days and finished within minutes of be having to board a greyhound bus to Jacksonville to stay with Aaron Levi Garvey for a night before driving to New Orleans for a Tameka Norris opening at the CAC. I made a drawing on the bus ride and talked to my seat mate about my art. I began a pencil drawing in a cafe upon arriving in Jacksonville, then met up with Aaron for accommodations. The next morning, Aaron, Stevie and I drove to New Orleans together. We met up with Milagros, with whom I stayed for three nights.

Tameka's opening was a part of a large art event called White Linen. The streets were filled with art lovers and there were many open galleries. After the opening, the aforementioned Jacksonville crew, Milagros, were hanging out and I mentioned that I'd like to stay in NOLA for a few more days. She offered me her studio space for a few days while she went out of town. It was an incredible opportunity to make work in a creative space. I finished the pencil drawing I'd started in Jacksonville, then began a gouache painting inspired by the work of Will Henry Stevens, a southern modernist who's work I saw at the Ogden. The Gouache painting took me two days to complete. In this time I also managed to make a gouache and watercolor painting of the word four9 in graffiti lettering via Tameka's suggestion. Both paintings were fun to do and one provided a nice mental break to the other. I gave the graffiti painting to Tameka when I left her studio the next day.

I took a greyhound bus back to Tallahassee, where I am currently residing until I travel to New York in three days. From New York, I will board a plane to Amsterdam, where I will stay in the Netherlands Dennis Residence through late August and September. The plan will unfold organically from my time in Amsterdam. I plan on staying in Europe until at least December. I would like to stay as long as 8 months.

NYC 6/27/13

Today I am in New York City..

To get the ball rolling I'll explain where I am prior to my travels :

I was accepted into Ringling in May, but did not receive a scholarship from the school. A bachelors in illustration from Ringling would cost 70,000 dollars. 

I declined the acceptence, and went to New York to take three SVA Continuung Education Deparrtment courses: Draw Anything, Especially From Your Head, with Jerry Moriarty,

Childrens Book Illustration with Monica Wellington, and Graphic Design, with Skip Sorvino. 

Through Wellington's course, I attended a lecture at the society of illustrators based on Maurice Sendak's controversial contributions to children's books, and a movie about Tomi Ungerer to the same tone. 

Outside of SVA, I met Scott Brundage, an illustrator whom I was introduceed to through my roommate, Andre. Scott showed me some helpful things to consider with watercolor painting. 

I also met with Jonathon Rosen, a long-time professional illustrator, in his studio for a mock assignment to compose an infographic. 

I left New York on July 9th, to begin a first tour with one of my bands, American Honey. 

We toured the Southeastern United States for three weeks. 

After the tour, I returned to my parents home in central Florida to visit with many of my cosuins for "cousins weekend".

I later went with Jacksonville friends Aaron Levi Garvey, a curator and art installer, Joey and Felici of the Milagros Collective, and Stevie, a stylist, to go on a trip to New Orleans to see Tameka Norris' art opening at the CAC. While in New Orleans, I met with Dona Leif, a friend of the Dennis Family's and long time professional artist. We went to her gallery show during hanging to show me some of her latest paintings. Donna uses pop culture references and insects to create unique dialogues in her paintings. 

After jacksonville I returned to Tallahassee to meet my friends at thier house at a CoOp, and to stay with the Dennis Family.