October 7, 2003
Introduced our new salesperson, Crystal Connelley, in our staff meeting this morning.

Had an almost perfect day yesterday. Finished re-writing the Mescal Springs shoot-out and added several corrections to various other gunfights, then came home for lunch and finished all four images that I had worked on over the weekend. One was a black and white Wild Bill Hickok that I had started over a year ago, chucked it because it sucked, then found it last weekend and saw it had potential, gave it another go and it works. Did the same with an uncompleted Hickok and Tutt painting I gave up on. Resurrected it, added a couple wash flourishes and it ain’t bad. Finished the James Gang meeting a farmer painting. Big sucker, decent effects and also whipped out a Frank James going over the counter at Northfield. Melrose commented he likes this last one the best and hinted strongly he’d like if for Christmas.

Photographed the art, went back up to Foothills Photo and dropped off the film. Picked up a coumadin refill at Walgreens ($25 house account), got film prints (one-hour development, $22 biz account), came back to office. Robert Ray scanned them in and we put them in the layout at about six. Came home, went to the cave with the dogs. Overcast. Very nice out (got sprinkles this morning).

Made a steak, had a glass of wine, watched the new HBO series “Carnivale” (we had it recorded, it was the second show. Not sure I like it. Weirdness on steroids.). Talked to Kathy about the kids, Read Atlantic Monthly, and scathing review of a new Mark Twain book (the article also claims there is a new book published every 30 seconds. Yikes!).

Went to bed around nine. Coyotes came right up to our front gate around two in the morning. Kathy got up and fought them off, put dogs in studio. I slept through it, or pretended to sleep.

“My mother said to me, ‘If you become a soldier, you’ll be a general, if you become a monk you’ll end up as the pope.’ Instead, I became a painter and wound up as Picasso.”
—Pablo Picasso