Sometimes, you must simply attack a canvas. Without process photos. Without a plan. With gusto.

See above, “In Case of Fire in the Catskills” – a collage made of items I  picked up in Woodstock. There are business cards from the outstanding Cucina, a Fire notice given by the fire department after we donated some green, a peeled Scraps wine label, and lots of paint. I even experimented with medium: Nori for the good time stickage, and oil sticks.

An abandoned Lindy’s Cafe… a once proud road stop for butter-laden sandwiches, now, abandoned. Empty. Similar to Spitzer-the-Steamroller’s soon to be canceled new show.

My honey and me at the Ashokan reservoir — when we got back to Manhattan, we reconnected with nature by grabbing some Ashokan water from the tap.

Our good looking hosts, the talented Jeremy Penn and his lady Jessica.

In Woodstock your dealer is a healer. NY Loves Pot, Milton Glaser knows the spot. Peace sign, keeps you out of police lock. Don’t be down, smoke a bowl, wear the crown. Tie Die, flowing skirt, take a whiff, gange floats around.

Guerrilla marketing in a corn maze – there are no limits to my promotional depths. Or is it shallows?

Garage painting, natch.

The freak bus, some crazy ish went down on this mo-fo.

Some sturdy building action in downtown Woodstock.

Pee Wee hanging from the rafters, of course. This is pretty standard, really.

Remember trolls? Clearly Woodstock does.

I would imagine this could be considered questionable to some, but, it’s just a crying doll in a store.

Enter at your own risk.

And why wouldn’t Hippies Always be Welcome?

The red tree at the exact center of the frame.

Obligatory river reflection shot.

How can you be down in a small town in Norman Rockwell’s ol’ back yard?

Check out Otis, he writes ditties like the sign posted above in East Harlem:

“Song White Fantasy”

Lyrics –

She’s Healthy and Sexy,

Pretty Pretty and White,

and I Just Want to have Her for a Night.

– Now that is what I consider sensitivity.