Several beers deep, meandering past the Chelsea Hotel… I was beckoned — “Hit the bodega. Buy a sixer. Come inside.”

Make like a dealer, avoid eye contact, get to the elevators… climb stairs, lose yourself, absorb art…mingle with ghosts. On the roof, crack a beer, grab a hammock, take in the washed out stars… what does it all mean?

If you told me I’d paint this picture in my 40th year, living in Idaho as a father of three…

Introducing my latest, a 20”X20”X1.5”, acrylic and enamel painting of ‘The Chelsea’. Of late, I’ve been compelled to experiment… put away the ruler and paint with emotion. Buy the ticket, take the ride.

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