Monday, April 27, 2015

Day 14: Digby

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 14

8" x 10"
Oil on Canvas

I've already been requested to do more animal paintings. Who doesn't love an adorable pooch looking up at you??

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Day 13: Ruby Slippers

"30 Paintings in 30 Days"
Day 13

Ruby Slippers
8" x 10"
Oil on Canvas Board

An homage go the Wizard of Oz, but a slightly more grown-up version. I think I'll do a full-scale version of this as well, along with an actual figure to fill the shoes!

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Day 12: Taking A Break

30 Painting in 30 Days
Day 12

Taking A Break
9" x 12"
Oil on Canvas

I love cigars and scotch. It's the best way to unwind after a hectic day. And, like people, cigars have some very interesting colors and patterns in them, and each of those is very distinct. I think I could paint cigars for the rest of my life and never find one that has the same patterns and colors.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Day 11: The Dark Knight Watches

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 11

The Dark Knight Watches
8" x 10"
Oil on Canvas Board

My first blur! I love doing new things! I'm looking forward to doing something similar in a larger painting.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Day 10: White Corset

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 10

White Corset
11" x 14"
Oil on Canvas Board

The photo is a little bright on one side due to the paint still being wet. I'll take a better photo of it soon. At 11" x 14" this is the largest of the works so far. It's a lot of canvas to fill in one day, but by the end of the 30 days I should be able to do it with slightly more ease. Granted, it takes a lot of focus. I'm just on the edge of sitting inside a sensory deprivation tank!

Monday, April 13, 2015

Day 9: Florien

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 9

9" x 12"
Oil on Canvas Board

I'll start posting these to the website soon. Doing a painting a day is definitely time consuming. Leaves little time for actual posts and admin work. But, it's all about the work, right?

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Day 8: Seraphim

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 8

9" x 12"
Oil on Canvas

Koi are such amazingly beautiful animals. I'm surprised at how similar koi and humans are when it comes to painting. Koi may have many different colors, but they hold the same luminosity, which can be difficult to capture sometimes.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Day 7: Riddle Me This

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 8

Riddle Me This
6" x 6"
Oil on Canvas

Sometimes I think I'm sooooo clever. I should start wearing question marks on my clothing.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Day 6: Violin

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 6

9" x 12"
Oil on Canvas

This is a test painting for a larger work. I think this would look great as an 18" x 24" or larger. It has the right amount of detail and by manipulating the colors a little I can evoke a particular feeling. I suspect many of these smaller works will become larger ones. This is most definitely on that list.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Day 5: Bobbie

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 5

8" x 10"
Oil on Canvas Board

This is my pal, Bobbie. I'm one of artists who are lucky enough to have a very high number of beautiful friends who also happen to be quite adventurous and/or outgoing. I never have a shortage of subjects to paint, in various styles, personalities and effects. I'm a lucky artist, indeed!

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Day 4: Serenity

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 4

8" x 10"
Oil on Canvas Board

I have a lot of koi photos from SecondMom's koi pond. I think quite of few of them will find the light of day in the next 26 days!

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Day 3: Mocha

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 3

8" x 10"
Oil on Canvas Board

Is is terrible for an artist to say that they have impressed themselves?? Probably. But at least it's not because of  "the innate beauty of the piece" or because of some "masterful composition created by the placement of" whatever. I don't even know if any of those apply. But what I am impressed about is how I've been able to loosen up and not feel like the work is incomplete.

Even a month ago I would have angsted over this piece for another 5 or 6 hours, blending and glazing and scumbling.

This is why every artist should experiment.

Friday, April 3, 2015

Day 2: The Symbol

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 2

"The Symbol"
6" x 6"
Oil on Canvas

Anyone who knows me knows I love The Batman. In fact, we're both very similar. He likes bats. I like bats. He sits alone in a cave looking at a computer, I sit alone in a room looking at a computer...drinking scotch...watching Netflix.

Anyway, this was an incredibly fun piece to do. There will be plenty more, I'm sure.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Day 1: Pensive

30 Paintings in 30 Days
Day 1

8" x 10"
Oil on Canvas

30 Paintings in 30 Days kicks off with a small portrait that I'm calling Pensive. This is of a pal of mine who wanted the honour of kicking off the event. This is a great warm up piece and has definitely put me in the right head space to paint faster and with more focus.

Admittedly, this one started off very hard. I wanted to add more detail and double check measurements and do a lot of thumbnails and color studies. But that isn't the point, is it? It took much longer than it needed to. But, this is the keystone piece to this. I often have such a painting when I go through a new phase. Pensive is that piece, and for that reason it is likely to be one of my favorites.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Movies with Geraud: The Other (1972)

"There were others. Now, there is only THE OTHER."

Dum dum dummmmmmmmmmmmmm

This movie is old as shit, and by that I mean almost as old as me. Let me set the stage: the lights are out. It's nearly midnight. The cool dog is lying at my feet. The other dog is in with TheWife. TheWife has gone to bed. By "gone to bed" I mean she has her noise cancelling headphones on and is binge watching Sons of Anarchy. Somehow she still manages to sleep well. 

[Editor's Note: You are about to watch The Other. With the lights out. At midnight. Hypocrite. --TheWife]

If you haven't seen the trailer, here it is:

I have my pjs on. They are red and black checked with a T-shirt that reads "Trust me, I'm a superhero!" I have on the most comfortable slippers ever. And, because this isn't quite Bridget Jones enough for me, I am also drinking a raspberry flavored coffee with one-and-a-half sugars in it. 

I am man. Hear me roar.

The movie starts and it starts with whistling. Hell yeah! Whistling on a black screen is the very definition of "creepy." Unfortunately, it goes to some very high pitched flute and violin thing that make me think I'm about to watch a movie with Ryan O'Neal in it. I sigh. This might not be as good as I hoped.

The movie starts like all movies from the 70's. We spend about 2 full minutes with a panorama shot of some woods. Finally we see a little kid looking at a ring like he's waiting for a genie to pop out of it. Or like it might turn him into Ryan Reynolds. I suspect this ring is going to have some significance.

Then the whistling starts again. The kid runs and hides in a barrel. Good move, kid! No one would think to look for you in the one barrel in this whole forest! 

Unfortunately we are both wrong! The kid's twin brother finds him! A five minute game of chase begins with the two brothers. It's fun to watch because the kids have the athletic prowess of Gummi Bears. They bop and shimmy their way through the woods like they were doing the Humpty Dance. I start humming The Humpty Dance in my head as they run around. So far, this is the best movie I've ever seen.

Eventually they get into some shenanigans. Holland and Niles need to show us which one is the good and which one is the bad. Niles keeps a nervous eye out at a barn door while Holland breaks a pickle jar. These kids are BAD NEWS! The maid, or their grandma, or maybe a farmhand, hears it and charges in after the boys. She grabs Niles, calls him Holland by mistake and starts giving him a helluva switching! She is dragging him back into the barn to clean up when she sees two rats eating the spilled pickles. She flips her shit!

Now, I saw Psycho. I know the 70s were more frightening than two rats eating pickles. But you'd think this was the most terrifying thing since the second Darrin. 

Fast forward to...John Ritter?? Holy shit, he's so young. And alive. He says about 3 lines while we watch Niles eat and set up the backstory: Sick mom, maid, harpy old aunt, living John Ritter, and a very sweet Niles. Where the hell is Holland? This is suspicious.
Ah, there he is. He's hiding in the barn in the dark. The two boy chat and we get some more back story. Good. I was worried that I didn't know enough about the world they lived in!

That ring we saw earlier was grandfather's ring, then father's. Father died, Holland got it because he's the oldest (but only by 20 minutes) and he gave it to Niles. Phew! Glad we got that shit covered. It was killing me!

More importantly, there's something wrapped in a blue hanky that Holland also gave to Niles. They won't tell us what it is. It's small and sort of long. I suspect it is an old wrench. Maybe the handle of an old pot. Oooh, I know! It's a tiny Tabasco bottle!

Whatever it is, the boys get busted! They "ain't supposed to be playing in [that] old barn" and some snotty Dudley-type kid is threatening to narc on the boys. Well, boy. Holland manages to hide. This kid is a total ninja. Stupid Niles just stands there and gets caught with his ring and his blue-hanky-mystery-object. I think it might be an old fish.  

We're up to 20 minutes. In that time: 
   Holland kills a rat.
   Niles gets a flashback.
   Mom comes out to breathe some fresh air. Wow-ya! Momma's hot.
   Niles and his babushka play the Great Game, which consists of mind raping a crow. But we get some foreshadowing. Something about a pitchfork, a hay and some pain in your chest. Hmmmm...

Did I mention that mom is a stone cold fox? Is that proper 70's vernacular?

A few minutes later, we see that little Dudley kid is playing king of the mountain. He climbs to the top of the barn and jumps into a pile of hay. We've seen him do it before. I didn't care about it then and I don't care about it...

Oh shit!! That kid just jumped and landed on a goddamned pitchfork! Where the hell did that come...Ahhhhh, the crow dream. That's some Game of Thrones shit right there. And sure enough, that little snot-nosed bastard is as dead as Tony Danza.

[Editors Note: Tony Danza is not dead.]

That's either a pitchfork about to kill an innocent child or Wolverine hiding
in a haunted corn maze.

Everyone is off to the funeral and Niles is in his room. He's about to unwrap that blue-hanky-mystery-object. I'm betting it's some kind of jerky. Maybe...

Ewwwww!! It's an old finger! Gross!

Babushka tells Niles to tell Holland to apologize about those damned pickles. So, Holland goes over to the old lady's house dressed as a magician. He gives her the pickles and is performing a magic trick. He takes off his hat and is about to pull something out of it. 

"Is it a rabbit?"

"No," says Holland. "Guess again." Then...voila! Rat!

The old lady dies of a heart attack. 

This Holland is a little bastard. No wonder no one other than Niles ever talks to h....ooohhhhhh.

The old lady is apparently dead for a week before anyone notices. But they notice the smell. "Oy, the smell!" Babushka takes Niles over there to find out what's up and BOOM! Dead old lady! Niles runs back to get help. He runs like she swapped legs with a zombie.  It's painful to watch. 

Fast forward. Apparently hot mom has found the tin with the ring and the nasty finger in it. The boys plot to take it back. Hot mom is outside crying. Niles, the sweet one, goes out to console her. He takes her up the stairs and then confronts her about the tin. She's holding the ring and wants to know how he's come to have it. There is no way this bodes well. 

We find out some key facts. Holland gave the ring to Niles. Hot Mom is surprised by this revelation. She asks when. Niles says in March, after their birthdays. This makes Hot Mom's eyes go insanely wide! Something isn't adding up here.

This has become the foundation for every actor whose motivation is:
"Someone is saying some shit that doesn't add up!"

Then, Holland pops out and screams "I gave him the ring!" He and Hot Mom wrestle and...wait a minute. I thought I had this figured out. How the hell can...

Eh, there she goes. Mom goes tumbling down the stairs, being sure to hit every flower pot on the way down. Niles goes running down the stairs calling for babushka. Where the hell is Holla...ahhhhhhh!

Hot Mom is confined to a wheel chair and apparently can no longer talk. So much for someone to explain what the hell is happening!

Babushka makes Niles admit to what's happened, including the old dead woman. Niles says Holland is bad, but he doesn't want to be. He tries to do the right thing, but he can't help it. Babushka's like, "fuck this!" She snatches Niles by the arm and drags him to a graveyard. She makes Niles play the Great Game with her, and then he looks at a headstone and spends approximately 3 minutes describing a decaying corpse. And then, the great reveal!


If you don't like spoilers you should stop reading this now. I'm about to blow your goddamned mind. You might think you have this figured out, but trust me. You don't. There's no way you could. Sherlock Holmes couldn't have figured this out. By that, I mean the Robert Downey Jr version. I'm sure the Benjamin Cumberbatch version could have figured it out, but he's an evil genius.

[Editor's Note: There were books before the movies. Please read the books.]

Take a deep breath. Here comes the reveal...

Bitch, it's HOLLAND'S GRAVE!! That fucker is dead! He died right on his birthday!


I did not see that coming!
I also don't know how big metal bird fly in air.

Flashback: Holland is about to throw a cat down the well. The cat turns the tables and, like that chick from The Ring, Holland finds himself at the bottom of the well. But he's dead. You can tell because he has wonky leg. No one lives when they have wonky leg. And we find out it's not daddy's finger. It's Holland's. Niles cut that shit off with some garden shears. Gross!

There's 30 minutes left. I'm pretty sure we have everything covered. But, there must be something else. I hunker down for the finale of this movie.

His step sister brings home a daughter, the groundskeeper gets drunk, a storm is a-brewing, and Hot Mom cries...

...and then someone takes the baby!! They think it's the old crazy groundskeeper. We know better, don't we?

A search party gets called in. Dogs, dudes, church people, Niles closes himself in the barn. He starts calling, "Holland! Where is the baby?" Over and over again. I think, "why the hell would THAT be the tag line of the movie? Why put that in the commercial? Talk about spoilers!

Sure enough, they find the baby. It's a very Se7en moment. Some guy named George brings in a barrel from the old groundskeeper shed. It's still closed up, so apparently George is just guessing at this point. He must have called Derren Brown or something, though, because he is spot on! We find the baby. The baby is in a barrel submerged under water or wine or pickle juice. I don't what the fuck that is, but I also can't believe they showed it! That's fucking baby hair floating at the top of that barrel. You don't show that kind of business NOW, in 2015!!

I get teary. George has the best "I just found a dead baby" face in the history of movies.

I feel your pain, George. I, too, am appalled and grossed out!

Holland/Niles has killed the baby. He's in the barn talking to himself. Babushka knows what happened. She goes in, gets the confession and decides to take care of things once and for all. She dumps gas all over the barn while Niles/Holland is in the cellar. He thinks she's an angel. Then, he smells that gas. You know what's about to happen when someone starts dumping gas on you. She's about to set his little ass on fire and he knows it!

In one last twist, instead of lighting and and running (like I would have done) she actually spreads her arms and jumps down into the barn's cellar with Niles/Holland and WHOOOSH!!! 

Everyone goes up in a blaze of glory. Cue the end credi...wait. What's this?

Hark! What is this mysterious lock doing here in the remains? Has someone escaped?

The movie ends with Niles/Holland looking out the window as some guys clean up the burned up barn.

Dum dum duuummmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Wow. That was awesome! Hopefully you watched it with me. This was a good date, right? Let's do it again soon! I won't even try to put my hand on your knee.

Now, let's keep our fingers crossed that Hollywood is working on a remake. Maybe starring Gillian Anderson as Hot Mom and one of these Cagney and Lacey chicks as babushka. I'm sure there's another Fanning kid in the mix somewhere to be Niles/Holland. And that dead baby can be played by Flav-A Flav.


Wednesday, February 4, 2015

The Lovers

The Lovers
18" x 24"
Oil on Canvas

I stand back and look at this painting. I feel an immense about of pride toward all of my works, much like a new mother must feel when she spent all that time carrying and then birthing a new born babe. Exactly.

[Editor's Note: He is not serious. Though, I had to ask and make sure. Sometimes you can't tell with him. He's...well, you've read the blog.  -- TheWife]

But this one. This is my youngest. This is The Lovers. This is the tarot card that has made single people grin with excitement whenever it gets pulled. I dare say that any fake tarot reader worth his or her salt will have be able to pull this card at will, along with the Wheel of Fortune and Death. You get some asshole in your tent, bringing his or her negativity and trying to shanghai your mojo, you reach into your sleeve and BAM! Death card, bitches!

Probably not the final design of the cards.
Would love some input!

I'm statin' the obvious here, but nothing shuts an asshole's mouth like getting the Death card. Hell, if doesn't even mean what you think it means, but Johnny Wiseass doesn't know that. He'll shut his trap and listen like a good boy, hoping you'll tell him it's ok.

But, The Lovers. That is a good card, in both meaning and appearance. I've seen some beautiful images of this card. But no matter what artist creates it, in whatever style they work in, the image is always uplifting.

Unless it's reversed, 'cause then you're fucked!

Got a favorite tarot deck? Or a favorite card?  I'd love to hear about it. Maybe your's will be next!

Saturday, January 17, 2015

What's Up With Rectangular Holes?...or Sam and Dean Aren't So Hot!

I don't watch much television. Not anymore. There was a time in my life that I watched 3-5 hours of TV a day. It was what I did after work. I had anywhere from 15 to 20 different television shows that I watched regularly.  Needless to say, I didn't grow much during those years. That was a good 3 years of my life that I will never get back. But, who didn't want to be cool like Tony Soprano? Who didn't want to have a group of friends like Rachel and Monica and Chandler that you could sleep with occasionally? Who didn't want to kill a vampire, or drink coffee in Stars Hollow, or have a shape-shifting meatball as a teammate?

But, there was something that I noticed about my TV heroes. Something that no one had pointed out to me.

My TV heroes never actually watched television!

   Blog Reader: So, wait. You're telling me that Max from Dark Angel didn't watch television?

   Me: That's right, Blog Reader. Not once that I can remember.

In fact, in all those shows, you know who WAS watching television? The victim of some crime, right before they got killed. In the X-Files, if you were watching television before the opening sequence it just meant that a fluke man was about to turn into smoke and suck your lungs out of your face! [Edit: I think he just combined two episodes and the plot of Lost into that one description - TheWife]

Trust me. This bastard is about to die a very horrible death!

In Law and Order, if you were watching television then someone was about to break into your house and bludgeon you with an ax handle...or rape you if this was SVU you were watching. John Crichton might have watched TV in that one episode of Farscape when he took Aeryn back to Earth to meet his family, but that was right before he left Earth again to save it from alien attack.

Willie Nelson's heroes may have always been cowboys, but my heroes never actually watched a bunch of television because they were out doing shit to save the world/get the girl/rescue some dude/pay the rent/discover worm-hole technology (again)/stop Mojo Jojo from being a total dick!

Not to say that I don't watch television AT ALL. I do. I watch a few shows. I mean, I'm not a total freak or anything. In fact, that leads me to the original reason I came to the blog today.

See, I started watching Supernatural. I know I'm late to the party. But, I never had a thing for hot brothers and the only people I knew that really liked the show were ladies. They always had a great argument for watching the show, but they ruined said argument by swooning at the mention of The Brothers.

   "Geraud, you would LOVE it! There are vampires and werewolves and shit!"
   "Really," I would say. "I love that shit!"
   "Yeah. And, eventually, they talk about angels. That's your damned nickname, son! How could you not like it??"
   "Yeah," I would agree. "I LOVE shit with angels in it!"
   "You would love this car they drive. You used to have a '76 Cutlass, right?"
   "I got so much tail in that car," I would proclaim. "This show sounds like it has everything!"
   "Yeah. And the brothers...<swoon>"

After that, I would have to spend about 20 minutes reviving the woman who was telling me about the show. Let's just say that it was awkward. And it didn't only happen once. It happened constantly. It was worse when two or three women were telling me about the show. Mass hot-feinting is a pain in the ass.

I started to assume that the show actually sucked but women had to justify the reactions that their loins produced. Kind of like when I tried to convince my then-girlfriend that I watched Xena: Warrior Princess because it was good TV and not because of hot chicks in bikinis swinging swords.

Oh Gabrielle. I miss our weekly trysts!

So, I avoided the CW version of Fifty Shades of Grey and instead tried to figure out why Gil Grissom was always so grumpy despite getting work around cool ass murders all the time.

Now I'm watching Supernatural with TheWife...shit! Hang on a second. She just feinted in a pool of her own saliva.

Ok, I'm back. So, we're watching that show that I call "Drinking With the Winchesters." I'll explain that one in the next post. I love the show. We watch a couple episodes with dinner as our quality time. Then, TheWife goes to bed dreaming of becoming a ghost so that she can be chased by the whole Winchester family while I plan my workouts for the next day because I do not feel good after watching these hot people hunt demons while TheWife had her head resting on my soft, pillow-like gut.

Which leads me to the one real problem I have with the show. This whole post as led up to this one issue:

Why the hell do they dig rectangular graves???

In the show they spend about 30% of the time driving around, another 15% of the time having Dean hit on girls, 5% of the time showing the world their hard bodies, 15% of the time crying about something they have to do or already did or one of their parents did, 15% of the time being snarky, and the remaining...carry the plus...umm...20% of the time digging up graves and pouring salt in them.

It's that last 20% that bothers me. See, somehow they always dig that fucking hole PERFECTLY. I mean, right on top of the grave they are about to desecrate. Not only are they always spot on, which may not be that hard since there IS a grave marker on top of them, but they also dig the hole in a perfect rectangle.

"Hey Dean, do you have the T-square? I really need to finish this up."

Look at those corners! You couldn't square this corner up any better if you were a god damned carpenter! They dig straight down, too. Those walls don't have even a quarter degree of slope! They dig like the dwarves of god damned Middle Earth.

Have the writers ever actually dug a hole before? It sucks. Hard. And digging a neat hole is so much extra work that it's not even worth it. And they put all the dirt in a neat pile, too? No! I say, no way! The Winchester boys are NOT that perfect! And I will not accept these perfect grave holes. I might not be able to do anything about those pecs, but I will not stand by and have my hole-digging compared to Sam and Dean's, too. No sir!

Now, if you will excuse me, we have the season 2 finale to get through. Some shit just got real!

Thursday, January 8, 2015

Gallery Hunting is Hard Work

I am an artist. And some would say you aren't a professional until you sell regularly. Others would say that the moment you become professional you aren't really an artist. TheWife would say: call yourself whatever you want as long as you cover your share of the expenses!

[Edit: I would never say that, and he knows it - TheWife]

While I'm talking about differences of opinion in the art world, let's talk about galleries. Some people say that you aren't an artist of note if you aren't in a gallery. Some people say that a gallery is often a waste of an artist's time and that they can manage their own marketing and exposure.

Let me tell you the path I chose. First off, an artist is anyone who draws, paints, sings, writes, dances, snaps, plays an instrument, or has sex in a particularly graceful way. Period. Make money or don't. Actually, don't make money on that sex part. I think that might be illegal. But, by all means, do it with all the grace you can muster!

I think that a gallery is better than not. At least, it has been for me. The reason is two-fold. I have been in a gallery and admittedly they did not do much marketing for me. But hopefully you can get into a space that does some work for the artists. They hold shows and have extensive mailing lists and hold regular events.

The other, bigger reason that I like being in a gallery is that they did provide a nice venue for my art shows and the place give me some credibility. I have been paintings for many years. There are a lot of questions that I get repeatedly. But, perhaps the most asked question is "Where can I see some of your work?"

I could say, "check out my website." And I often do. But, this often brings about a look of sadness on the part of the listener. Nothing sells a piece of art like actually being in its presence. Being able to recommend my gallery to a client has made a big difference in my sales over the years.

I haven't been in a gallery for some time now, and I can really tell a difference. So, in the past month I have begun hunting for gallery representation. Which leads me to the point of this blog post.

Gallery Hunting is Hard Work!

If you read posts on how to submit work to a gallery you will get a list that's longer than Cher's wig hair. The truth is. the list is short. Very short.

1. Find a gallery that sells work similar to yours.
2. Send them your portfolio

Already I can hear people typing responses. "You can't just send unsolicited stuff to a gallery!" I see this all the time. I've heard it a lot. Hell, I even know it to be true. The gallery I was in was through a personal referral.

But the galleries don't know this! I have poured through dozens of galleries, partcularly in New York because I think it's time to spread my wings. So, I look through gobs and gobs of gallery sites. And most of them do not sell my sort of work. You've seen my work, fellow adventurers. That is some niche shit!

But, you gotta look through them all anyway. And then I find one. I find a gallery that sells figurative work. And not just old people sailing, or a guy shooting a tiger. Real figurative works! I get excited. I get psyched. I've been looking through gallery sites for approximately 73 days and nights. And then I find one that might be a match! It's like deciding you're going to be single your whole life, buying 7 cats and then meeting that special person while you're ordering take out Chinese food. Magical!

I call, because you don't just send your stuff in. I want to talk to someone, tell them how much I love their gallery, see if they are having any events, maybe ask about submission rules. I pick up the phone, call the gallery and get a very pleasant person on the other end. They are always pleasant.

"Hello," I say. And then, I do what I do! By the end of our conversation we are laughing like old friends. And then I ask about submitting work. No matter how much laughter there is, or how much they love me, or if I know their third cousin Patrick from an event I went to in Boise, I get the same answer.

"Great. Just send your portfolio to a guy named John. He's at John@I' He looks at all submissions. And he only does it in whatever month is 8 months from now. What month is it?"


"Great, He'll look at it in...June...July...August...August! When I see him I'll tell him that joke you told me. That was hilarious!"

And that is it. Same result. Every time. Guaranteed.

I wonder if they can tell I'm sitting in my underwear when I call. Maybe I snort when I laugh. I don't know. Maybe every portfolio should be sent with a $100 gift card or a photo of the wardrobe malfunction of the week.

Truth is, even as we speak, John might be finally looking through my portfolio and getting ready to call me. Maybe this is working. Maybe I'm going about it exactly right. But, don't believe for even a second that this is easy-peasy.

Has your gallery hunting gone easier? Worse? We'd love to hear your experiences.