RIGHT TURN, WRONG TURN
Three weeks have passed since my temporary move to Florida. There's not a whole lot to report other than it's working out, which is a surprise even to me. I have a weekly routine with each day beginning with coffee, a lot of time in the pool shed studio and the day ending with the gym and dinner for one.
I've chalked up two FL art shows under my belt, seven more to go. I don't feel like either was really quite the success I was hoping for; it's how this business, or any business I guess, starts. You experiment, be prepared for disappointment as well as unexpected joys.
While this latest show in Boca Raton wasn't major ballin', it would have been impossible not to enjoy myself. For somebody who isn't crazy about eating (I see it as little more joy other than creating a turd), the raw oysters, the rock shrimp ... such tasty treats.
Do you know what rock shrimp is? I didn't so I asked Charlie who owns and runs Charlie's Seafood, a little dive fish joint in Deerfield Beach. He explained they have a hard shell and taste like little lobsters. When Charlie placed my bowl of rock shrimp on the table, he waited to watch my tastebuds explode ... but witnessed me struggling to break the shell. So he peeled my first shrimp for me, and was sure to explain last year the shell was already cracked and it just made everything so much easier. I'm sure Charlie was trying to save me from embarrassment, but c'mon dude — there's no point, you're dealing with a lost cause.
The weather has been impeccable. I've made friends with new artists and tomorrow am looking forward to seeing a friend from home. I'm homesick and miss having fur beside me at all times, but I'm getting through it.
One thing I heard frequently over the weekend was the well-wish when two departed ... to good health.
So my friends, until next time, to good health.