The Edge Artist Village 611 Main St

Burrrrr ninja.
I am craft cold work.

Got to work twelve hours today at the hotel, and next week has me lined up to look like the same thing next week.

Work at the hotel is pretty fun for the most part. It allows me to eat large volumes of pineapple. I had a pretty long conversation with another devotee of the heavens nectar we call pineapple. Seems that there are more believers than I once thought possible.

Tomorrow finally is get the hoses day.
I was hoping to be off before five today,
but was not off until nine. Stifling my ability to purchase.
So tomorrow! I will get it. And perhaps propane...

My studio is filled with doors.
The care taker fellow has already spoken to me about it,
So they should be gone soon. To where is the question.
I swept up two (five gallon) pails
of dust n' crap off from the floor.
Off of the section of floor that was not covered by doors.
I am going to have to paint it.
it is all concrete though, even the roof.

Though,
there is a urinal directly in the middle of my space. It stands like a monolith, a constant reminder that I am working in what was once a bathroom. They knocked the walls down, so the space is larger than the bathroom was, but this obelisk remains unchanged, even after the old walls and floor have been removed. It does not work. But I think I might have it painted.

tomorrow is the opening,
the whole world is invite to come
six eleven main street, starts around seven
but I would try for around nine.
A very exciting time, and the exclamation mark
of everything Amy has been working so hard for
(its in Winnipeg, suckas!)

been listening to a little too much public enemy.

and not enough beck. Ponies!

Do painters always paint.

always.

Sean