Face to Face with a Legend.

Can you believe this?

Our recent brush with fame...
None other than fabulous, infamous, king of the wonderfully demented:
Writer, director and filmmaker--- John Waters!

Special thanks to Marcy for sharing her tickets with us.

Good Folk Fest....

......was sooo much fun and I sold several pieces. YAY! Everyone was very nice and welcomed me sincerely to the club.
Met tons of really good folks and wonderfully talented artists (including Joe McCuaig, who took this nice photo of me in my booth), Ramona Hotel (who bought one of my pieces) and Ab the Flagman (who talked to me about showing in Atlanta in a gallery he is getting off the ground), and don't forget Rudy Brownbird Relic who not only is a nice guy to talk to, but Mark and Scott are convinced he is the next huge star of our generation. So many other outstanding people worth mentioning....I truly loved the experience.

Can't wait for next year!

Good Folk Fest is THIS WEEKEND.

Maybe you already have your calendar marked---
Maybe you are still deciding if it is worth the trip.
Either way, my advice on the matter--

Well, heck yes!
You should absolutely come and join in on the fun---Saturday or Sunday---or BOTH!

Get in the car and boogie on down to Mellwood Art Center, in lovely Louisville, Kentucky. Mingle with some wacky and talented people, do a little holiday shopping, and walk away inspired and enlightened!

In other words, be there or be square.

Here's a link to an article where I was actually interviewed about the first ever gathering of "Good Folks"...
(Click here, Mom and Dad):Louisville Velocity Weekly

Now, check out the main website here:
Good Folk Fest Official Website.

AND you can check out the MySpace page here:
Good Folk Fest MySpace page.

Last but not least, here is a flyer for your viewing pleasure:


Come if you can and buy something before I become famous and veeerrrrrryyyyy expen$$$ive.

Ha ha... Just kidding, of course...

Ha ha......Not really.

Um, yeah..... Totally kidding.

Not.

**wink**

Goats

When I was a young man in Western Kentucky my grandparents, not unlike many of my friends who are from the rural south, lived down the street from a goat farm. The narrow, one lane road that we drove to and from Nanny and Pops house was about a 10 mile drive from civilization (if you call Paducah civilization) and it was filled with 10 miles of exciting sites. Uncle Boone whittling on his porch, the flooded creeks of "The Bottoms", the last liquor stores and dance halls before the county line, the corn fields, the tobacco fields, tobacco barns and of course, my favorite, the goat farm.

The goats at this farm looked like other goats except for the fact that these little fellas were extra special. Special in the fact that they fainted when they heard a loud noise. I said, they fainted when they heard a noise (sorry, when I talk about my grandparents I tend to repeat myself 2-3 times- it's a family thing not a hearing impairment thing). I could see them coming up into view through the front window of dad's Lincoln Continental and I would start to beg. Please honk, please honk. I would roll down the window and scream while he honked at the goats and yes, they would faint. Horrible torture for these poor goats I am sure you are thinking, but hours of belly laughs for the entire family. You see this was also a thrill for my father. He had honked, yelled, clapped and stomped at these goats his entire life. Not neccessarily these goats, but goats who lived on this farm. He would repeatedly get in trouble by the farmer because he said the goats would deliver sour milk if he scared them too often, but dad was too smart as an adult to believe him. HONK HONK SCREAM = FAINT