September 11, 2005
Well, we all know where we were four years ago today and I don’t know about you but I feel nervous all day that "they," or some crazies are going to strike again. Probably a groundless fear, but nonetheless I’m always glad when it’s over and nothing has happened.

Had a very nice day at home yesterday. Kathy went to her mother’s so that meant several things. I could work all day and night in my studio without guilt and I could walk around nude, fart and when the sun went down, the clicker was all mine. I realize these are vile tendencies to admit to some people (most women!), but then, 6.5 million people watched Comedy Central’s roast of Pamela Anderson (nude or not nude, I actually thought it was too vile: I attempted to watch it the first time it was on and couldn’t get past David Spade, then Wonderful recommended I give it a second try and it was on last night, but I couldn’t make it past the first comedian. Ugly, ugly stuff.)

I recently mentioned being red-green color blind, but it’s probably more accurate to say I’m just color stupid. I hate to admit I was in my forties before I even knew what complementary colors are (red-green, violet-yellow, blue-orange) and have since limped through my paintings on this thin spit of knowledge. Well, this morning I started reading a color theory book and I am just amazed at what I don’t know. I usually paint with orange and blue as my starting point, and anything else is hit or miss, mostly miss. In a split complementary color scheme, you paint with orange, but rather than blue, you take the two colors to the immediate sides on the color wheel, which would be blue-violet and blue-green, and when you combine these colors in a painting, they look very good together. Here’s an example I whipped out as a practice motif. Not bad, huh? It only took fifty-eight-and-one-half-years Kingman Motif Boy!

Better late than never. I found out this morning that a friend of mine has stage four bone cancer. He toured with the Monkeys in their heyday. Sad and scary stuff.

I need to go up to the Bashas’ and get some lemons. More later.

"If your wife no longer cares how late you come home, it’s later than you think."
—Old Vaquero Saying