Sitting on a balcony in Sète, with a fresh vodka in hand and warm breeze complementing the view of the canal, I was reflecting on my career as an artist. My friend, I use that term loosely and I am keeping the right to change my mind about him, laughed and said:
Chad, you have no career as an artist. What you’ve built is the life of an artist.
Good Friends aren’t necessarily right, but they do have good vodka. In the morning that followed and the many others since, I have thought about that. Maybe, it’s the new sheets, the different bedrooms but I never made painting my wife, she’s still my mistress. Painting is this impossibility of fidelity.
In the end, Zeno’s Conscience got the better of him and he became a businessman, giving up on the narrative.
Je cherche encore de l’aventure