Saturday, December 11, 2010

This can't be this easy!

I sittin’ here this morning waiting for the gaggle of seedy bikers to once again invade the protected gates of the Porn Compound. We don’t get a lot of visitors down here but when they do come they usually come in a pack.
It’s a nice repose from the daily ‘barely happings’ that a small ghost town has to offer. When you insert a group of hairy deviant bastards that know how to have a good time with nobodies help you will raise a few eye brows from the local cowboy contingent.
That’s one of the things I am growing to like about living out here. I can have my daily grind of painting and writing more or less undisturbed by the influx of outside society but on occasion you get a bunch of folks on bikes that invite themselves down and it completely blows the monotony out of the water…in grand fashion.
It’s a good life that’s easy to control and at times I almost feel like I am cheating. The world beyond the desert seems to be rushing by as I get my fill of social interaction through the demon internet. I hate the internet but I feel that I don’t use it as a tool I will completely shut down into my little town, content and happy to live out my days in my head. I don’t think that would be a good idea.
Cheating, how the fuck is what I am doing cheating? I’m is just hard to believe you can live this easy. Sure, there are money problems but they are small. It feels like you do nothing all day but at the end of that day there is a lot done…just without stress and traffic.
The more I live this way the less I can understand how people live any other. When you step out of all the pomp and circumstance of the city the entire city makes little or no sense at all.
I am now living with no hassle. The only hassles I get these days are from the contacts that I have with the ‘outside’ world. That is usually just business shit.
My days I wake up when the dog wants me to, have a cup of coffee and mess around in the cactus garden until I’m awake. My commute is a walk down through the historic distinct as I shoot the shit with cowboys and shop owners. By the time I hit the studio I am ready to paint…and I do that a lot because this town has just let me enjoy it.
Hours ranging from ‘a bunch’ to ‘not so much’ are spent in the studio slingin’ paint. If the mood ain’t with me I don’t force it…I got time…all the time in the world. When the sun starts settin’ I brace for whatever weather is headin’ in. It ranges from twenty degree nights to others that just require a sweatshirt. I guess it would be easier to just jump on the internet to find out the forecast but what difference does it make. It’s goin’ to be cold or it’s not…nothin’ you can do about it.
The days usually move on by without incident unless something catches on fire, someone gets shot or at least fall face down on the sidewalk only to wake the next morning undisturbed safe but hung over!
Livin’ can’t be this simple. You wake, you work, you have a couple of good belly laughs, you go to sleep…repeat. That’s all you need, from the cradle to the grave, but motorcycles make it all seem cool.
You may at times think if you read any of this shit, that I am out here lost and lonely wearing my long dead Grandmas Muu-Muu but you’d be sorely mistaken’.
The mania that I have lived with all my life is slippin’ away day by day. Sure I get myself into manic fits but I just apply that to work around the Hut or if I’m lucky, hours upon hours of just painting. All this and I can just jump on my bike and point my 21” away from town…but I always look forward to coming home.
There is truly no need to live with the rat race. That is if you haven’t committed yourself by crossing the starting line…then it gets tricky. It may not be for everyone but as for myself I am becoming a desert rat and with this acceptance everything makes sense.
Well the ruler of The Big House’ has just walked through the gates with an armful of small Mexican dogs. I gues we are just getting all kind of guests. Now I here bikes…all this stress. What’s an ol’fuck to do?


  1. George George George... Now I am really worried about ya. All that stress and mexican hounds... You have pretty much described my home town, Population of less than 100. I run back there when the rats start gaining on me. If you aint got it made your damn close. Keep strokin at it.

  2. In the metropolis most folks seem to be horny for stainless steel appliances and granite counter tops,or they,re digging thru the trash eeking out a living. And the rest are all watching like a deer in the headlights trying to fit in or make sense of it all.
    Less is more George,the simple path...but I would'nt live in that head of yours either,your right that's not a good idea.

  3. Congratulations on finding a place to give your head a break from stress and simply enjoy your art and life. I'm sort of jealous. I'm still racing the rats but at a slower pace than many others in my line of work. Less is more.

  4. I've recently run into a series of events that have taken me out of my true and natural element. In my case that's living in eastern Oregon, fighting wildfires, riding and working on bikes with a handful of friends. I've got good friends here in Portland, where I've been sucked back into, but life out there was much like you describe it. Sometimes isolated, sometimes inconvinient, but always free. To add insult to injury, I've even had to sell my bike. All for a good reason, but still.... I could go on with all of this, but you pretty much hit it on the head, so I won't. Just looking forward to getting my life back. Havent bought "the Horse" in some time, so it's nice to find your blog. Always dug your rants in the mag.