In October, en route to Phish’s Festival 8, I came through town and called up Jimmy Bleyer. He gave me a place to stay and took me on a tour of two gallery spaces, the Hive Gallery and the future site of his Temple of Visions Gallery. We talked and he introduced me to Nathan Cartwright, curator of the Hive Gallery.

Nathan offered me space to hang a small blotter art display at the January 9th opening which coincided with Jimmy’s Grand Opening of the Temple of Visions Gallery.

For my part, my contribution was less than ideal. I squandered valuable planning time in November and barely pulled a display together before I was on a boat in international waters working the Jam Cruise festival. But, hey, thank goodness that the universe looks out for Fools, Drunks and Children, because unseen forces rallied to my aid and a modest but tasty blotter display was hung at the Hive.

The opening itself was nothing less than astounding. There was a line fifteen deep at the doors of both galleries for hours as people paid $15 to attend the two shows. I’d never seen anything like this.

For my part, I was actually in an emotional funk, but these past few weeks — well, from Furthur’s New Year’s Eve run to the present — for me have just been about appreciating how lucky I am to have cultivated such solid friendships in my life.

On New Year’s Eve at Furthur, The Beatles song “All You Need Is Love” blasted from the loudspeakers just as the countdown was happening. Balloons fell from the sky, I was texting this to someone I adore who couldn’t be there and the band started to play The Golden Road To Unlimited Devotion, which is a Grateful Dead devotional song of sorts, and I felt in that (completely sober) moment just how loved and how lucky I am.

Two days later I was on a boat in the ocean, then in Jamaica, then The Caymans and hearing some of the best musicians on earth doing improvisational jams ’til the sun came up, and then flying west for my first ever art display at a “real gallery.” And Love, Love, Love… Without It in The Dream, It’ll Never Come True… Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.

Sooo… 40 has treated me quite alright. Back to Sam Fran’s Disco tomorrow, and back to trying to get a clear sense of what February might have in store.

Regardless, on this eve of my 41st birthday, I feel like one of the luckiest people alive. Now I gotta get out the popcorn popper and drum up some coin ‘cos I ain’t got a trust fund and all this fine livin’ doesn’t come without a price.

“Ohhh, What A Beautiful Buzz, What A Beautiful Buzz…!!!”

(Gimme A Little Drink… And I Fall Down Drunk…)

There’s yet another article on Mark McCloud, my buddy, hero, and curator extraordinaire of the Institute of Illicit Images aka The Blotter Museum. The latest media was handed to me in Golden Gate Park this afternoon — a local free newspaper, The Haight Ashbury Beat, ran an article called A morning with the Godfather of blotter art.

Between the recent Juxtapoz article and this local blurb, Mark McCloud’s been getting quite a bit of press lately!

Blotter Art’s a long way from “going mainstream”, but at least Mark doesn’t have to worry about The Feds kicking in his doors one more time… we hope!

Just in case he needs another robust legal fund, go buy a Giclee of one of his “forensic blotters” from BlotterBarn.com…