Shotglass-a-Day Project, Day 31/31.

Well, kids, the shotglasses are done. Seems like a million years have passed since I kicked the project off on January 1st, all full of piss and vinegar and ready to draw 366 glasses over the course of 2012.

Then again, I had no idea at the time what twists and turns my life would take in January. Guess I can't fault myself for not being clairvoyant, though - I doubt that anybody else could've predicted the things that have happened to me any better.

So here I am almost a month and a half later, and the world as I know it is drastically different from the one I thought I was living in back in December. Some longterm plans hatched in happier times have been shelved, sadly. And the adjustment process hasn't at all been easy.

On the plus side, here's the last of the 31 shotglasses:

And I think the new idea of having a different theme every month will add some much-needed variety to the whole drawing-every-day thing. Dinosaurs for February are, as you've already seen, well underway. Other potential monthly topics include guitars, shoes, dogs & cats, dragons, and at least one other than I'm blanking on at the moment. I'm certainly open to suggestions from the floor.

Also on the brighter side, the work situation has taken a definite turn for the better, so at least that particular bit of stress and pressure has lessened considerably.

Onward and upward, right?

Bret Taylor
Lost in 2012.

Bret's Big Art Sale.

So yesterday's sale was a smashing success. I commandeered the studio at Imagemaker Photographic Studio, lots of good, fun people showed up, paintings and prints were sold, and a good time was had by all. The show wasn't even started before several prints were already sold, and with the guidance of a few friends, the momentum kept going as we turned the sale into a bit of a Twitter event (#BretsBigArtSale).

(Photo courtesy of George Smeltzer - GSCameraworks)

I was really touched by how much effort people made to promote the sale. Plenty of mentions, retweets, photos and link sharing on Twitter, Facebook and Google+. Right off the bat, I should thank these fine people:

John & Chrissy Watson, George Smeltzer, Lori Kittelberg, Patti Catroppa, Ceci Graber, Brandy Trudeau, Jeff Hornby, Donna Jay-Crowe, Adam Carlson, Ned Tobin, Nikki Cruickshank, Nicola Rueschmann, Richard Finch, Adé Win, Vincent Ng, everybody at Cosca and Novo, Nicola Rueschmann, Yvonne Milroy, Matty Sadorf, April Trasy, Valarie H., Kimli, Stephanie Insixiengmay, Anthony Wittrock, DaDe Art & Design Lab,  Vancouver Vantage, Carly Fryer, BC Berrie, Lora Jean, John Bell, Jenn Ashton, Lola Frost, Louise Perrin, Ashley November, Steve Kubien, and of course my family.

Sold a set of 6 bourbon prints, a Jack Daniel's print, the Crow's Funeral painting I did in tribute to my good friends Lisa and Paul in Mojave, etc. etc. I was sort of sad to see this one go, but at least it went to a good home:

(Photo courtesy of Brandy Trudeau)

In the midst of all the wining and dining and wheeling and dealing, I managed to get a little sketching in:

(Photo courtesy of Tess McCann)

And of course, adult beverages were provided to keep spirits up (see what I did there?). There's still a bit of wine left in my fridge, but the tequila didn't survive:

After 6 hours we packed up the paintings and called it a night. Only thing left to do at that point was celebrate with vodka and poutine.

Thank you one and all for a stellar day. Let's do it again sometime soon.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who put up with my twitchiness and general neurosis on the days leading up to the sale. Apparently I'm always going to be a bit of a mess right up to the point where a sale/show starts.

The Big Art Sale.

So I've been talking a lot lately about this upcoming Closing Time show I want to put on. And of course, the first painting's already done, but if I'm gonna put on a full-fledged show on the scale I want, it'll take some funding - I'd like to put together a book (via Blurb) of the initial sketches of my Muse and offer that for sale at the show in addition to the paintings. And really, having copies of my Hey Ladies book available couldn't hurt.

Coincidentally, I'm also trying to strip a lot of excess baggage out of my life these days. Being a packrat is a real flaw of mine, so I'm determined to cut some of this extra crap away. (Why no, it's not a midlife crisis at all.)

Killing two birds with one stone, then: I'm hosting a sale this weekend, and almost all my paintings prior to the Metalflake show in October are going, going, and hopefully soon to be gone. It'll free up a ton of wall space and hopefully raise the cash I need for the next big show. Prices are being slashed as if I were some crazed, fez-wearing carpet-warehouse owner.

What's on sale, you ask? Well, you can download a catalog of the show right here.

So stay tuned, and if you're in Vancouver, please come by the show. Relevant info is as follows:

Saturday, January 14th, 2:00PM - 8:00PM
210-2075 Yukon St., Vancouver, BC

Thanks, and please spread the word.

Bret Taylor
Vancouver, BC
January 2012

Paint Therapy.

So I woke up too early this morning, after dreaming of better circumstances, to find myself at home. And outside in the hall, the building manager and the painters he hired were yelling at the tops of their lungs as long-awaited renovations finally took place. (A word of introduction: building management has done almost nothing in the way of upkeep on the building for the last couple years - a long-standing resident manager left under mysterious circumstances, then we had temporary relief managers, then we had a guy in his early twenties who was apparently too preoccupied with looking like a gangsta to actually do his goddamn job. Elevators sat broken for months at a time, lights in the common areas were burned out, homeless people were constantly trying to infiltrate the building, mailboxes and entrance doors and even apartments were vandalized, etc. etc.)

Anyhow, three guys standing five or six feet apart while they all yell to one another simultaneously makes for a hell of a ruckus. Literally a rude awakening after only four hours of sleep.

(In case you're wondering, this is actually going somewhere.)

On top of all this, there have been many, many changes in my life in the past few months, nearly all for the better, but with their own accompanying stresses, of course. Insomnia has come back for several extended visits, the forces of evil seem to be conspiring, money issues continue to rear their ugly heads, people I need answers from are being flakes, and there are days when it's all I can do to just roll with the punches.

Which brings us to today. I was jittery, bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived, and generally feeling like my entire emotional spectrum had been abraded with coarse-grit sandpaper.

And I took a look at some of the new metalflake paintings I've got on the go, and decided they needed a quick application of glass bead gel. Opened the jar, got out a palette knife, and started spreading the gel. Half an hour went by, and I realized a huge chunk of the stress had just... lifted off.

Paint therapy. You heard it here first, kids. I recommend it for everyone, even if you aren't a painter. And did I mention I've got 19 new paintings in the works? That's a lotta therapy.