This painting was found in my uncle’s studio loft, well after his death, and my father has always said that it reminds him of me. The eery part, is that it was painted back in ‘82, nearly eleven years before I was born. And what’s even more shockingly absurd, is just how well it stays there plastered in my head. In fact, my day was a lot like what’s depicted there above. And you know, that’s just becoming the norm. It’s an accepted fact that boils and then soothes.