More mentions in the massportraits

There are two Kelly's. One is a mum with a kidney infection that is stopping her from getting on the plane Tuesday for two weeks in Teneriffe. I told her there are some hot doctors out there incase they start to leak. All she has to do is take anti-biotics. Do it in the sun. Don't just do it. Get on with it. The other Kelly hangs at Social Suicide and makes mens casual wear. Actually, her name is Zoe. Nothing to do with Kelly. So that's four Zoe's I know. Zoe my sister with half a cow in the basement in Kansas.They used to take a mobile refridgerated vehicle to football games for tailgating parties. Most people take a cooler. Offical Costco Queen weighing in at 350. We don't talk. We don't skype either. Considering all the ways there are to communicate, I shake my head. Zoe who tattoed her left wrist with a spirit guide symbol in honour of her mid-life crisis. Good luck with Eucalyptus..better than your neighbor. Some people buy a Harley like John Martin.I painted a cup for his 70th birthday a special one just for him except it had a big 80 on it. 70--80--it's the same thing. A very late mid-life crisis as his life has been rather fine with a flock of ostriches in the back yard. Some people get a tattoo. World Tattoo--Tony Fitzpatrick's Gellery--Don Ed Hardy and me 1992. That was a sold out show of portraits...Wilma Tedworth...and Betty Bunt Cake from the Gated Community of former KKK's. I wasted a little time with a chainsaw to the brain at the art institute of chicago sitting in four hour crits listening to people relate their paintings to their childhood until one day when everyone was out of words, I said let's be honest....that wouldn't sell for ten cents at a garage sale. Nobody laughed and ah well. It was meant in jest. I liked him and his paintings. After that, it was suggested by Richard Loving to take a course in Diplomacy, but that is not my forte and I'd have to wait till January to enroll. That course was full. Then there was the guy who worked at Starbucks and filled his studio up with coffee grinds...about four feet of it...memorable. And the boobless bore who cut a one by twelve foot strip off the bottom of my collage painting as I had used some scrap off the floor of her studio in my collage...fuck. She had fifty tampons up her ass. And the girl who painted half ass oils from holiday polaroids from the 70's. I bet she's married to a doctor now. The percentage of people who really do art after art school is something like 2%. It was supposed to be significant that she was caught in a casual pose readjusting her swimsuit, so she had her finger up her ass...good for her. And the girl who poured tea down a white sheet and videoed it. What a lot to see. She videoed and documented her way in PS1 in New York and infact, I did like like her growing plants in sacks. I had drawn portraits all over my studio walls accidentally. They were supposed to remain white in the hallway. And so some students oh...I was getting away with murder. there at the Art Institute being told what to do and how to scale it bigger and being introduced to galleries as a student definetly de-hipped me a few. Don Ed Hardy lived between San Francisco and Hawaii an expert tattoo man. A Parisian marketer has put him on the shoes and even cell phones. Ed is everywhere now that he is dead. And Zoe Norridge from Oxford--the Dambudzo conference where I smashed a happy family Shona sculpture to illustrate a lecture. And Zoe, the daughter of Raphael and Yannick who can see the Evian factory from their bedroom window.