Time is winding toward a new year. Before you know it, it’ll be 2050. I don’t reckon I’ll be around then, which brings me mighty sadness on account that I like being here. But let’s not count unhatched chickens. Heck, I may very well be one of those chickens at some point. Which brings water to my eyes ’cause folk love eating chicken. Have you ever been to Chick Fil A during lunch hour? Lord, just make me an octopus.
I wanted you to meet Barb. I named her so ’cause she puts me in the mind of Barbra Streisand. Now, I like Barbara but I don’t believe she’d take too kindly to being in the frame of a square-shaped doll. I know I wouldn’t. Please, don’t tell her.
Interestingly enough, some of my best selling paintings have been well fed women incorporated in my work. I was first introduced to these kind of women in art history and then I discovered Fernando Botero. Pretty awesome work. If you need to smile, check him out. But Barb here is something to smile about too, don’t you think? I mean, what exhibitionist isn’t?