The most surreal moment of the day was easily when Ann Richards walked into my space. I quickly made my way to her and pointed out the large drawing entiled, "George W. Crosses Washington'.  Featuring our esteemed leader and his flag bearing crony Dick, the drawing features America's brightest corporate criminals (and Martha Stewart too!) making their way across the icy Delaware as the Enron Titanic ship sinks in the background.  I showed the former Governor the drawing, and told her it had her name on it.  She laughed, and said, "No, no it doesn't, no it doesn't.  It's very good, but, no, it doesn't."  Can't hit a home run unless you swing the bat, and despite returning to the bench after striking out, I had a smile on my face anyway.

My studio was also visited by the director of the Austin Museum of Art.  A nice man, I've seen and heard him talk a couple times around town, but never really met him.  I'm generally nervous around gallery people, directors, and art reps, desiring to stay a bit removed from the Art World and follow my own route, a more solitary path removed from the flashy glitter and pretensions of this small piece of the world.  If accolades and recognition arrive, that's fine, otherwise, I just need to keep working and producing art.  I don't know why I feel so out of place in the larger scope of things, but I'm comfortable with my decisions.  Surrounded by a group of three-four men with big, unnatural smiles on their faces, all wearing glasses, clean polo shirts and crisp khakis, they slowly made their way through my studio.  The posse looked like a pack of accountants on uppers, a somewhat surreal scene I imagined cut from the movie 'Pollack'.  Always a sucker to people watch, I stepped back, stood quietly out of their way, and let them quietly snake their way through my space. 

The afternoon was packed, waves after waves of people strolled in, I tried talking to as many folks as possible and tried keeping up with the blistering pace and professionalism of my studiomates Myra and Julia and their clothes designing business named Supernal. 

I laid low on beer most of the day, kept myself from starving by eating an occasional handful of chewy popcorn, and at one point doled out some serious advice about being an artist to a young art student and his worried mother.  Besides telling them what happened to me during and after art school, here's some of what I told him:

• Being poor is the easiest thing you'll ever do.  Getting poor is the hard part. 
• Money for paint always comes before food.
• Just keep working and don't freak out when you hit a lull, it's natural and part of the process.
• You only have to start to worry about when your bank balance drops below twenty dollars. 
• Always make sure you have a week's supply of food at all times.
• Don't eat until after dark, otherwise your metabolism kicks in and you'll be hungry all day.

They were delighted by the advice, and I kept reassuring this boy's mother that it actually was a good career choice and not to worry.  Sounding a lot like my own mother, she said, "It's a mother's job to worry."