I was broke, out of school and working part-time at a small bookstore, located in the last little half-vacant strip mall before the highway. It’s no wonder that during this time, I also developed the inability to fall asleep easily, a pattern that’s never left me.
The drawings were simple abstractions based on suggestive shapes, done with India Ink on opened paper bags and cardboard. Seriously I was beyond having no money during this time, but had just saved up enough to get 3 pints of latex house paint in goof colors: off white, blue and red-pinkish. After Thanksgiving, I began a new series of paintings exploring shapes with these new colors.
Early December, what ‘emerged’ was a solid blue shape with this pink skin sheath thinly splayed out over it. I knew the blue was something having to do with a Man. But the pink: I kept thinking, it looks like (I know this is weird) a heart that’s exploded.
You know where this is going. On December 8, the moment I heard what happened to John, my favorite Beatle, it was super chilling because of that painting. How could I have picked up what was coming?
That night, my stupid apartment seemed lonelier than ever, so I went out in search of others to commiserate with. Which felt even more awkward since I wasn’t a bar maven nor did I belong to a church or a club. So it was come home to the idiotic diamond window and cry, cry, cry. Call my mother who didn’t quite understand. Cry, cry, cry. Cry all night for days, no sleep.