Update from the World's most "Unfamous" Artist

Once again I am sitting at my "office", a.k.a. "The Hob Nob". I've been distracted from my story telling of the "Tropical Gypsy" only to say to myself' "Why not get Internet at my apartment?" "Nuff said.
The divorce is in it's final stages, just waitng for the papers to come in and sign. "Sad". Ah, well, such is life. I am beginning to realise "things DO happen for a reason". Albeit "hardtimes", goodtimes",..each is an opportunity for change. I reflect over some of my earlier Posts in this blog and can say, "Wow!" Thank my "Lucky Stars" I had the Internet , Friends and a Therapist! Although I don't feel it, or admit to it, but I can finally say, "I'm too old for this!"
My Heart (as all things do with time) has softened from the blows of "uncertainty". With not the Interests and Concerns and Kindness of Friends, who knows what my Heart would have become. I know of one individual (a friend from a long time ago) who lost a spouse decades ago and became one of the most "bitter" people I know of! This helped! I thought to myself I "never would become so vile" as to not greet each day with a "Thank You"!
What to do next? I have (erratically) began my short story detailing the life and times of the "Tropical Gypsy", a character I have affectionately equated with myself (I'm sure some of you have concluded that from the beginning). Too, I am in the "birthing throes" of beginning the pieces (some have been in the make for years) for my Art Show this Autumn. I have delved deeper into bringing my Design business to fruition. At the same time I have begun to "relax", not completely and not without some anxiety toward a still "uncertain" future. I certainly will continue to "air" my existence within this Blog in order to keep some of your interests piqued.
My goals?... 1. get back to Nicaragua before the end of the year to chronicle more of the "Tropical Gypsy" and to visit my Friends. 2. To have my Art Show and be it a success, or not, that will be the "hilight" of my Art career. 3. Also, this "thing" deep within my Heart, is to "connect" with my children and grandchildren before I "board that Sailboat ride into the unchartered Celestial Waters of Life's Continuance ". So, my Dearest Readers, 'nuf said for now. I will try to get back on track with my short story soon. Much to tell of "Jo" and "Celeste".
In the meanwhile, "Life is not like a Box of Chocolates", Life is like the most delicate flower; It grows, blooms and dies. It is how it is painted and remembered at the time of it's departure and thereafter. I bid You all, LOVE!
From the electronic keyboard of the "World's most Unfamous Artist", a.k.a. "Tropical Gypsy".

Tales of the "Tropical Gypsy"

Chapter 2


Born into the cold war and in the Midwest with the shores of Lake Michigan a half hour away, he was the middle child of a struggling family "trying to make a living". His father, a hard working, hard partying and robust man, insisted on trying to "make it on his own", only to make repeated failures. His mother, a bored young woman from the hills of Tennessee, spent her days dreaming of the career that never came, the highlight of her life playing onstage of the "Grand Ol' Opry". Indeed, his parents were quite opposites and constantly at odds with one another which the children made it an opportunity to play outdoors instead of enduring the heated discussions inside.

Jo was a young lad with an extreme imagination (later this would be his ticket to the Art world) and a penchant for role playing. His favorite characters were Pirates. The lure of the seas, tropical isles with emerald green and torquoise waters, beautiful wenches...what more could a young boy dream of? Complete "controlled chaos". This role playing eventually gave way to sailing upon the waters of Lake Michigan. Jo didn't own a sailboat, but his friends did and sometimes a complete stranger would approach him to help "crew" for an afternoon. The Great Lake was a magnet! It's waters ever cold and clear, a deep blue so alluring many a man and ship had gone to the bottom plying her unstable surface. Yes, the Lake had the tenacious ability to "turn" from a calm to violent storm in seconds! This too, was very intriguing to Jo.

Drifting through alcohol and drug induced relationships took it's toll. At the age of 30 he was "OD'ing on cocaine and speeders. What the F..k!? He was a brilliant and budding Artist not seen in the Midwest for decades. His Art reflected the turmoil inside his mind. Approached by mentors and agents, he shunned them. His philosophy was simple with his Art; "It ain't fer sale. You can't buy me."

So it was Jo drifted aimlessly with the occasional painting and, or carving that would certainly and by ALL means capture the interest of a potential buyer. It was then that he would succumb to "whoring" his works for the money to pique his interests with some "good" coke. Inevitably his "free-spirited" nature would caught up with him one day and sure enuff, he was the proud, scared, intrigued father of a baby girl (outa wedlock, of course)! He doted her none the less. She was "clay" to be molded. Mother on the otherhand, knew of Jo's nature and demeanour. She WAS the glue to the new family. A few years later and Jo was the father of a baby boy born on Christmas Day. To Jo this had some significant meaning, therefore he named his new son after the man he admired and also was born on Chritmas Day, Jimmy Buffett. Well, he didin't call him Jimmy Buffett, but the label was there. After years of dealing with the turmoil Jo's wife left, took the kids and got outta town. Jo's penchant for a "Bohemian" lifestyle took it's toll on the young family. "Shaken, but not stirred", Jo remained for his children; he had a responsibilty to them no matter what and what greater bond than "love"?

Years passed, the kids grew, more relationships and of course, the inevitable; another marriage which also had gone sour. Devastated, Jo resolved to remaining a "lone wolf" the rest of his days; "love, it seemed, was just not his 'cup of tea"! So here he was, staring at the Angel above him who hurried to his side as he fell to the floor. Instinct told him to run...he did. Leaving the cafe' he rounded the corner to his apartment only to "look back". Celeste was in the window! Watching him leave! "Don't, don't look back!" "Too risky! Gotta focus, man!" Jo's pace was weakened by thoughts and the "angelic face"; his rescuer. "Damn, that was close!" He placed the key into the lock and turned the knob. As he entered he felt that something was different,..wrong. Again, the Dark took him away.

Tales of the Tropical Gypsy

CHAPTER ONE

He sat looking out window of the small cafe' sipping strong coffee with trembling hands, the result of a three day binge involving his favorite, Don Julio Tequila. "Gotta quit this shit", he thought. He knew too well it was only a thought, his demeanor logically knew better.

Another day, another struggle, not with a bottle, but with the ordeals he'd endured for months. "Change, I need a change". He was tired. Tired from months of dealing with "uncontrollable cicumstances". Tired of not knowing what each day would bring. His world was a "Bohemian Rhapsody" with the lyrics of good times and pain. Middle-aged and unsure of himself he was definitely a good candidate for "emotional suicide", that crossover from sanity to insanity. Artists, they have that potential. As he rose from the small table he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. "NO! Not me!" and succumbed to inviting hands of darkness.

"Sir, sir? Are you alright?" she asked. He was dazed, confused and surprised to find that not only the pain was gone as quickly as it came, but the young woman holding his head from the tiled floor was as beautiful as an Angel. "Am I dead?" The young woman reluctantly laughed, they both laughed. As she helped him to his feet he thanked her and apologised for the incident. "Are you okay to walk?" she asked. "Yes, don't know what came over me, but I feel fine now." "My name is Jo, without the "e". May I know the name of my rescuer?" "Celeste, with an "e", she replied. They laughed again. For the first time in months, or had it been years, he felt something inside that he'd long ago given up and never wanted to feel again, ever. As he looked into her eyes he'd realised he had to leave.

"Thank you, Celeste. I owe you one". He started for the door. "Jo? Do you come here often?" she asked. "Somedays", he said. In his mind he didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. "Why?" he thought. "Why am I so afraid?" "Gotta go, Celeste. Maybe we'll meet again." He walked out of the cafe' into the heat and humidity of the early morning. "My kinda weather", he thought to himself. "Good day for a run." And as he walked back to his apartment his mind would not let go of the vision of the beautiful angel he'd just met. as well, Celeste watched out the window as Jo walked away.

Little did Jo know his life was about to change forever. The adventure ahead of him was two blocks away, waiting in the studio of his apartment.

Tales of the "Tropical Gypsy"

Coming soon, dear Readers, "Tales of the Tropical Gypsy" as told by the "World's most Unfamous Artist" and a continuance of the "Chronological History of the Artist".

Life's a 4way Stop, procede with caution.

It's been a long time since I've written anything. Feel rusty. So, I guess what I will write about briefly is where I am at in my life. Some of you know already I have a studio apartment which overlooks the river here in "uptown" Niles. Some of you have seen what it looks like and already they say, "It's you." ...yes, it definitely is. Each room I and my friends have painted different colors to reflect and evoke a particular mood. The living room, as small as it may be is in hues of green to reflect tranquilty and a feeling of nature. The bedroom we painted in muted tones of mauve to help with sleep (and boy do I need a good night's rest)! The kitchen is small, so we painted everything brilliant white to help it appear larger, but also to enhance the colors of fruits and vegetables that are in the hanging baskets. Last, the most important room, my Studio. We detailed it in colors of pale peach and maize. These colors help my Art (which now adorn the walls) stand out and give people an opportunity to see each piece individually. Funny, those same pieces adorned the walls of my former home, yet now it would seem people are seeing them for the first time.
I love my place above the view of the river, so tranquil and inspiring. I cannot wait until I am completely settled to begin my new projects and to finish some old. The movement inside my mind is becoming restless, I haven't felt this way in many, many years. It is time for me to create. I see now that what has happened in my recent past has been either for the good of all, or maybe, as my oldest son Seth said, "Karma". He may be right. I needed that four way stop sign to be placed in front of me and was forced to choose a direction. The upside is I know the direction I am taking. It is the continuation of my life, the catalyst for my Being, the opportunity to prove to myself the Artist I really am! That's hard to swallow, but I am a good Artist, a "damned good" Artist! I can f... up most things, but my Art, well, it's my Story, my Life replicated in form, shape and colour for all to see, critique and feel.
So, for now, until I can get Internet, there will be these short interludes between the "Chronological History of the Artist." Goodbye and never be indecisive at that "crossroads".
From the "World's most Unfamous Artist", a.k.a. "Tropical Gypsy", Karma!!!

and then.....

Dear Readers, sorry for the absence, but I have been busy. You see, this weekend (April 25th)officially became the date for my "New Life". On the books it will begin May 1st, but I and my sister Arlene started painting yesterday. From the photos above you can see the beginnings. It's slow, but it is my "new home", finally!! I have my good friend "Muh" to thank!. The location is perfect; a block from downtown, sits overlooking the St Joe River and the view from two large windows will inspire me! Arlene, "my sister" has been by my side all weekend painting and helping me set the "mood" for the apartment. Two days! One room! Tedious, but the outcome is totally "John Lidecker".

I have to thank the "Pirate" for allowing me to live in his home whilst this "road to somewhere" finally paved a driveway to rest my worries. Living with no home..."wow!" So now, well, now it IS MY Life!

I am very close to getting back to some "normalcy" (?is that real word??). It's the Internet I miss most now. It was and is my way of doing business. Amazing, eh?! Sending files across fiber optics, satellites,..and sending them thousands of miles, too! Love it!

The other thing about my apartment is the opportunity to do my Art. I have a lot to catch up on. I have several pieces I have been sketching and I have the idea for several "performance videos". These will be the "shock value" that I so love! Hey! If anybody wants to participate let me know! "No, Pervs, no nudity and porn! Sorry!" I want to touch upon those things in life that ARE a part of me. Hard to describe. Sometimes my inspirations come from deep inside. Society is my biggest inspiration! People, events...I'm pressed to express myself through Art. Sometimes I wish it wasn't there, because that passion for can be a bit debilitating. I KNOW that's one of the reasons for my current situation....and, oh yes, "blaming me for an excuse to have an affair!" Oh well.

I'm sorry, dear Readers, if my writing is a bit sketchy right now. My mind is full of tasks, ideas, things to do, etc. I need to find a time soon to sit down and catch up. However, I wanted to share my joy of finding A Home! And again, I have my friend "Muh" to thank. Arlene to thank. And..."Pirate". As well as you all!

From the transitional palette of the "World's most Unfamous Artist", this is the "Tropical Gypsy" bidding all of you Peace and Good Fortune!

Can an Artist receive disability comp?!

Artists! Not only eccentric, outspoken, outlandish, "different", "a tad bit left of center field", but on the whole...Nuts. F...ing Nutz!! Serial, dear Readers! I'm talking WTF?! How many people in their right minds (or is it left?!) want to be an Artist?! I tell you, it's an affliction! An abomination of Life!! Damned be the juices that flow and course through our veins!! Artists are one foot (as in appendages, foot) in the gene pool of insanity and one foot out. Maybe that's why we can tolerate idiots and people that just, well, are "not all there"! Actually, some people scare me! Take the drunkard I wrote about a few blogs back, or my friend Laurence whom I have written of (no offense, Dude, but, yeah, you scared the "beejeezus" outa me and I respect you for it to this day). ...plug; please read of Laurence's exploits at http://www.wakinguphorny.blogspot.com/

Tonight I sit here typing to the masses, or lesser of the quotient, telling you all of my life and it's story. Granted, it was to be a "Chronological History of the Artist", but it sort of, along the way, became...well, Me. "This is ME!!" All about Me! Who the f... cares for cryin' out loud, except Me?! I guess in the end though there is a story, a comment to be made here. As in the famous line sung by the great "hippie-cowboy" Willie Nelson, "Mommas don't let yer babies grow up to be Artists..." Yeah, it's kinda like that. I never asked to be an Artist, it was There. I never really had to study Art, but I wanted to learn some "rules". Yes, there are really rules to Art! Just so happens I had an opportunity in my life to learn those "rules" from Artists who taught the "rules of the Masters". To say less would be to say, "Yeah, I know Karate, took two classes and decided I could go and kiss some ass!" ...right.... and you got that broken arm from wha..?!

I sat Saturday evening drawing, actually drawing from my soul at my favourite haunt these days, the Nuggett. It was a quiet evening, not much of a crowd. I decided to "curb my urge" and took my drawing pad and writing utensils along for the ride. It's hard to explain, dear Readers, but I cannot "just sit and draw", it has to "come to me." At times it might take hours, some times days and some times, years. I feel that "time" has approached. As I have advertised, "A Chronological History of the Artist". That evening I sketched what I need to do over the next few months, maybe years. I have a "new direction" for my Art. "I'm excited!" All I need is a "home" with a studio, or a studio and a home, or a studio with a place to sleep and eat. This Limbo shit is getting tiring! Once again, may I get an applause for my friend Laurence?! He endured a lot. Dude, I have to come visit. There will be much libation in the form of Tequila (hope you like Don Julio!).

None the less, dear Readers, I must profess the above photo is from a painting I executed in 1974. It's an abstract done in oils. This part is true; from start to finish I never realised what I was doing, it just "flowed" onto the canvas. The idea came to me as a feeling. Little did I know I was painting my own portrait! It also was at that time my period of "experimentation" with wines. "Oh yeah.. I'm sure some of you know of what I speak!!" Lessee, back then it was; Boone's Farm, Annie Green Springs, Ripple, Mad Dog 2020, Cold Bear(?), and the dreaded "Maneschewitz"!! The last was when all else was partaketh of and delivered a two day hangover from Hades! No wonder the Jews wandered the desert for 40 years, shit like that you couldn't see a lamp post at night if it were in front of you! Great for losing weight!!

So, I ask, "can I be compensated for being "borderline nutz"?! Eh?! I thought so.... Just gotta live with it. However, I wouldn't be who I am, right?! Actually, I kinda like it. I mean I can do some shit and get away with it,...just because!!! Therefore, the Artist is now beginning to "crack the shell" formed by years of submission and devotion to,...?!? I dunno, was it nothing?! I mean, here I sit wondering where I'll be in a few hours, days, weeks; fear of the unknown can be hard to deal with as some of you are aware. I realize that this "thing" happening in my life at this time is THE catalyst I have needed to create! It's tough, but it's Life! Each day is an emotional cocktail mixed with a bastion of emotions that could be overwhelming, but I LIVE for it! In the end I "will triumph!" my Art will be my reward! Thank you, my "soontobe X"! Thank you for reducing my life to the most rudimentary elements devoid of love from another and the security of "home". I am growing. I am being taught to rely on Me, not you. I will dedicate my first "new" piece in honour of that! ...sounds a bit like some anger there, eh?! No, frustration. I miss comfort, but comfort made me dependent and I know where that dependency has placed me.

Okay, how 'bout that for "compensation" now?! ...I thought so. Well, tomorrow brings forth another adventure for the "World's most Unfamous Artist". Thanks for listening, dear Readers, all of you have been my latest and greatest canvas to date! I'll write again when I have the opportunity to the internet!!

Peace Out!

Man, I need a vacation!