I painted this back in 2016 but it still feels relevant. Below is a painting of a confused Tucker Carlson. Kind of makes me feel like I wasin theroom forthat interview.

THANK YOU AND WELCOME TO MY NEW SUBSCRIBERS!

This painting is one of a series of paintings of my sister and I from our childhood. This one is set in back of our home in the Germantown section of Philadelphia from about 1975. The photo itself is very small, maybe 3”x 3”. It is torn in one of the corners, a little out of focus, and has a soft, brown layer of unifying blandness that is either a result of having yellowed with age or, quite possibly, just the way things looked back then.

My sister Kate is gripping the handlebars of her new bike staring down the viewer, or maybe the one holding the camera, with some intensity. She has a good reason. This bike was given to her on her birthday as a replacement for her last bike, which was stolen by a kid named Johnny who lived a couple of blocks away. She knew he stole the bike because he told her. And anyway she saw him riding it back and forth in front of our house. Johnny was a bully and a jerk.

I’m the one in the green checkered pants who appears lost in her own world. I am probably riding a horse through a field in my mind at this moment oblivious to all of this.

Kate would grow up to write, compose and star in several full length operas, one of which was based on a character she invented during these years, called, “Becky Butterfly.” The story is about standing up to bullies.

The original title for this painting was “Punk Rock.” The scene reminds me so much of a punk album cover: Kate with her lead singer hair and me on bass in the back.

Also floated as a favorite title was “Fuck You, Johnny.” And honestly, that’s still the one that best captures the sentiment expressed here. I decided on what might seem like the least interesting title as a simple description of what to look at here. My hope is that as you look at Kate posing with her new bike the words start coming into your head seemingly out of nowhere… ”Johnny... Hey, Johnny! Fuck you, Johnny!”

.

This is a portrait of, from left to right, Justices Samuel Alito, Brett Kavanuagh and Clarence Thomas. This is also a portrait of male contempt for women, from left to right, cold contempt, hot contempt and long held contempt. This is a portrait of three regular men in their regular clothes, how they might look around the house, in t-shirts and flannel. They are standing in front of the curtain that is traditionally used for Supreme Court photos but they do not belong there. They are out of place.

This is my first take on the overturning of Roe v Wade. It will not be my last.

According to the Post story, Ginni texted Mark on November 10, 2020 and said, "Help This Great President stand firm, Mark!!! ... You are the leader, with him, who is standing for America's constitutional governance at the precipice. The majority knows Biden and the Left is attempting the greatest Heist of our History,"

To which he replied, "I will stand firm. We will fight until there is no fight left. Our country is too precious to give up on. Thanks for all you do."

On Nov. 24, Mark texted this to Ginni: “This is a fight of good versus evil, Evil always looks like the victor until the King of Kings triumphs. Do not grow weary in well doing. The fight continues. I have staked my career on it. Well at least my time in DC on it.”

Ginni replied: “Thank you!! Needed that! This plus a conversation with my best friend just now… I will try to keep holding on. America is worth it!”

Who was the best friend? Her husband?

This week I have been spending a lot of time with my mother, going from doctor to doctor, scans, results and finally a trip to the emergency room yesterday. Next up: surgery. It all seems to move in slow motion, even as nurses and doctors race from patient to patient all around us. A trip to the parking lot by way of the waiting room shows a crushing backlog of future patients. My mother's private room, though still in the ER a day later, is truly a thing of luxury.

Here is a painting of my mother from a photo taken on her 80th birthday, August of 2020. The Woodmere Art Museum in Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia set up outdoor tables and hired a chef for a few nights in mid-August. It was priceless; a beautiful summer night in the midst of the pandemic. My mother at her best doing her favorite thing: dining out.

I am painting this portrait from a collection of photographs that I have found online. They are mostly selfies or photos taken by friends or loved ones.

I am painting him as a friend, as if we are just bumping into each other in the supermarket and saying hello. I chose to include an All Lives Matter tee shirt with a focus on the word “ALL.” He is wearing a hoodie, because I am picturing him as relaxed and comfortable, surrounded by love. The blue background signifies the presence of the police. Here it is not a threat to his life but the protection of his well-being, what it should have been on that terrible day.

It is not my intention to sugarcoat what happened to him in any way, but rather to honor him for the human being he was. His past has been dragged out for all to judge: he used drugs, he did time, as if any of that could ever justify the treatment he received. How well would any of us fare under such scrutiny? It’s good to remember that he was also noted as being friendly, optimistic, in recovery, and for saying “I love you” all the time.

I don’t know what constitutes a large number of subscribers but I have to tell you I am honored that each and every one of you is here. Thank you for hanging out with me as I explore this platform as a way of sharing art, ideas … and today, my 6th wedding anniversary to this guy right here:

To those I haven’t caught up with in a while, please meet Sean Webb, my husband and best friend. He is, among many other things, a great poet. His website is: seanwebbpoetry and you should definitely check it out. Here is another painting of him…

The painting of the two of us is still in progress - I see all kinds of things I would like to change - but that’s okay. The reason I share it today is to highlight the particular moment in time that it depicts.

It is painted with acrylic paint from a selfie we took of ourselves in Central Park right behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York some time in the fall of 2018. Earlier that year I had undergone chemotherapy for stage 4 breast cancer and had come a long way back from nearly dying although the future was still very uncertain at the time this picture was taken. More on this whole cancer thing in future posts.

What I hope I captured in this double portrait is Sean’s genuine nature of being funny and light hearted even in the face of major challenges. And my deep gratitude for this.

He never treated me with pity or pre-emptive grief. I sometimes got the feeling he didn’t even see me as sick. Of course he did, and those of you who know him know he went through his own trauma related to these events. But this way he had of sharing the joy of a moment even in the midst of our most challenging time taught me a huge lesson in radical acceptance just at the time when radical acceptance was most required.

Subscribe now