Warhol and I

Diva entered my paintings in a local art show, the results were surreal.



The program for the Art and Ability Exhibition.


This week started badly at the Strange Light Cafe. The dogs of depression and paranoia were eating at my self-esteem. I had to get up at six this morning, by the time I was done at the cafe -- I was tired, blue and feeling very small. Quickly, I grabbed a bite, made Diva tea and changed. Her photos were in an art exhibit starting tonight, so we raced through the horrible rush hour traffic, snotty drivers (bent on our self destruction) and road construction (designed to confuse). We thought we were late and scurried like confused Muppets toward the awards ceremony. Before rounding the last corner, I saw some amazing original Andy Warhol prints and slowed to gawk.

“Oh no!! Later!” Diva muttered and forced me around the corner.

It was a sizable venue. On the far wall, I spotted a canvas I had painted ages ago. (Diva had insisted I enter it in the show.) We walked about, chatted with the other artists and enjoyed their work. So many paintings -- so much talent, I was blown away. But finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I mean really, I hadn’t thought about the show all week. I was there for Diva, but I was suddenly curious -- did I win anything? With all this amazing art, I was trying not to think about it.

Sneaking over, I looked at the tag below my painting: Best in Show. The hell?! Turning, I saw a hundred chairs they had set up for the awards ceremony. On every chair was a program -- and on every cover was my painting. That forgotten painting that had hung like a dead pond in my apartment for so many years was now everywhere I looked. Crap. Worse, I had to swim that sea of my own making. You see, I had to sit down -- quickly. The rest was a blur.

I heard Diva talking to one of the judges and words like, “we were all blown away...” and “the amazing expressions...” were used. I don’t remember the award ceremony at all. I was there (I’m told) and I didn’t faint. Diva has pictures of me vertical and grinning like a dork. It looks like I enjoyed myself immensely -- sorry I missed it.



My paintings.


The next thing I remember, we were walking past the Warhols again as we were leaving. Diva stopped this time and remarked; “Do you realize your painting is hanging in the same building as Andy Warhol’s work?”

I didn’t faint -- in fact, I didn’t sleep all night.