paintings > drawings

"Self Portrait of an Artist"
"Self Portrait of an
Artist" . Framed
Charcoal on paper
5"w x 5"h

I am not an artist. I am merely a being. I am not a rock star. I have a full time job. My art does not feed me. I sell my work. I don't have the fame. I don't have the recognition. I am an observer. I don't struggle. I wear a tie to work. I serve people. I draw. I paint. I document what I see. I don't do drugs. I don't believe in struggling. I live in a loft. I drive a car. I ride the bus to work. I have a studio to paint. I am a social drinker.I love my Vespa. Sometimes I wear big rings. Lately I love wigs. I wear Pradas. I am gay.I love high tea at the Four Seasons. I was a banquet waiter there. I am an immigrant. I am Filipino. I am American. I do act. I don't make a living in acting. I like to write. I don't make a living in writing. I do paint. I don't make a living in painting. I wish I could do everything I want to do. I like realism. I like stark black backgrounds on my paintings. I like dogs. I like good wine. I had a pet rabbit named Pilay. I have lived before. I don't know what to do when I grow up. Maybe, take my canary for a walk. I bathe regularly. Sometimes, I have savings. I want a sugar daddy so I can paint, act, write full time. I am in my forties so that could be too late. I walk my dog. I vote democrat. I don't understand Gay Republicans. I've slept with Republicans. Many were married and I was top. I watch Oprah. I like home decorating channels and Top chefs. I like National Geographic and Animal Planet. I trust dogs more than I trust politicians. When I paint, I wear Ferragamos. I was an extra in "Dark knight". I was in a Ford commercial. I played a Brazilian Dock foreman in a Motorola Industrial. I am just like you and everybody else. With fears, insecurity, aspirations, hopes, joy, love, hunger, pain. I strive to be kind, compassionate and tender. I love sex. Some say I am an artist. I say I am not. I don't want to fall in a category. I am person that paints, acts, writes, loves, cries, vacuums the floor, serves you peanuts, and listen to your complaints as I feign concern etc. But I do know that God has given me the opportunity and I took it. Ten years ago, I broke my right hand. It is my working hand. That which I use to write and paint. When I heard him speak to me (My God is a dude - he's just is) ...."I must paint and use my hand carefully.".... That was my God talking. He doesn't judge for he knows that my right hand has touched other man's penis. He said that I have a gift and I should use it. So the day of my surgery, with hospital gown and all, before the nurse stuck the needle in my vain, the doctor asked me to moved my right hand (It was in a cast for 2 weeks). It moved it. Baffled , he ordered an x-ray. The bone that was broken and was to be connected by screws, went back to it's original place. The orthopedic doctor could not believe it. He thought it - Impossible. But I knew it was a miracle. God made it good. I was sent home. From that point on, I studied in Italy where my old masters walked( Leonardo
,Michelangelo and Caravaggio, to name a few). I studied with an amazing man named Patrick Betaudier who taught me the renaissance painting technique. These great masters have taught me the true meaning of perseverance and to being true to myself and that I must keep on painting.