The Veranda

In the '90s, the Gallery Years, it hosted groups that included artists from all the disciplines.

Croquet, cheating encouraged, was part of the entertainment; the lumpy crabgrass lending an additional surreality ala Alice-in-Wonderland.

Evenings, the light of tiki torches threw shadows; all further enhanced with wine, pot and/or mushrooms.

Now, with only the glow of the kitchen light and an iconic Distasio (they're ALL iconic!) painting to remind of those times, we sat together, basking in each other's company.

Photo by M. Cook

I hope to leave tomorrow.

Requiem For An Artist - Vincent Distasio

It was a year ago today.

He was perenially annoyed!! He came from a family of long-lived folks; an uncle had recently begun considering his heirs at age 92. 

Vince made a real effort to take care of himself. He'd had both knees replaced, fifteen years apart, and although they told him NEVER to run, it would wear them out or break them, he loved to run and ran every few days around a field near his house. He loved -- it's not too strong a term -- playing basketball and felt the same about riding his bicycle. In addition to riding it for exercise, he rode it everywhere to spite the oil companies. When necessary, he drove his 1972 AMC Hornet he'd bought new. He was lean without being skinny and we had a great time arm-wrestling in Flying Star on Coors last October. It was a draw...neither of us could "put the other down." He was pleasantly surprised as he lifted weights several times a week and although he knew I wasn't weak, I suspect he thought my weight gain had affected my strength.Of the literally thousands I worked with throughout the world, including the great UAE marketing company, Nakheel, Vince was the only one who became a friend.

Two other videos

In the early '60s, he married a German woman and moved to Cuba, New Mexico. There he taught high-school science and cowboyed during the summers, herding cattle on horseback and fixing fence. When I met him, in '93, his butcher shop had failed due to some kind of under-handed dealings and he was working as a meat-cutter while caring for an aunt who had Alzheimer's.

Outside Fisher Gallery on Central Ave in Albuquerque, circa 1993

A true iconoclast, he set the bar for individuality, creative expression and knowing where to find a good bearclaw (doughnut).

He crossed over last March. I miss him.

Vince's Birthday

In Albuquerque we came together to celebrate Vince's 77th birthday which is April 15th. An unrepentant Luddite, I've been patient with his requests to look stuff up online, but when he wanted to know how to corn beef, I decided it was time. 

I was lucky and found a Dell latitude E6410, in its day the fastest laptop on the market, at NAU surplus. 

He's a superb ranter and bicycles nearly everywhere to spite the oil companies. His '72 Hornet, bought new, is, I suspect, the last one functioning. We share the opinion that a car is a tool, not an ego extension. 

Of the thousands of artists, arts promoters, bureaucrats and media people I worked with he's the only one who became a friend. Michelle Cook (Double El) spotted him at the '93 SW Arts & Crafts Fair in Albuquerque where she too was exhibiting. His paintings, among the most bizarre I've seen, drip with angst. A graduate of Notre Dame, he has a degree in Biology and an M.A. in Political Science.

His obdurate, flat-out refusal of the computer means I'm enjoying it. He doesn't like beer so I also took back the Sheaf Stout.

He settled for a piece of cake.

L to R...Vince, Michele (One El), Michelle (Double El) Cook and Yerz Trooly.   

Against Work: A Polemic

One of the great treatises of our time is Laura Kipnis's Against Love: A Polemic.

Although there's alot more, the take away I got was: sexual satisfaction stems from indulging in unmitigated desire, sometimes with others...and sometimes with one's self. The key being a sense of self that enables focused enjoyment, non-judgemental, self-satisfying appreciation; the wherewithal to engage without self-deprecation...a basic tenet of  "mindfulness."

In a similar vein, Chief Joseph said to the American Congress, "It  currently takes (and he used percentages) 20% of our time to satisfy our needs for food and shelter. The rest we spend with our wives and children, with our friends and enjoying our lives. If we took up your way of life (farming) it would be the opposite. We'd spend all our time plowing, sowing and harvesting... leaving little time for anything else. No thanks." (Hey, wait Joe!! How about "keeping up with the Joneses?")

Not enthused.

Western culture  -- Americans think culture is a hamburger -- is founded on the Puritan work ethic. This heinous belief system has driven both the idea that one could rise to heights of unbelievable wealth and that the purpose of wealth is leisure. 

Vincent Distasio, one of the artists I still represent, has a different view. The black sheep of a wealthy family whose siblings reside east of the Hudson River, his siblings enjoy flaunting their accumulations in the form of large domiciles, expensive dinners and shiny new vehicles. Vince, being who he is, lives in a trailer court among ruffians where he paints, as he puts it, "the pictures no one else will paint." He enjoys manual labor. And even though he holds an undergraduate degree in biology and a graduate degree in poly sci, he's spent -- after a decade of teaching science in Cuba, New Mexico in the early sixties -- the rest of his working life doing construction and tree-trimming.

In his spare time he can often be found at a local cafe eating a bear-claw, a doughnut-like  pastry. In disgust of oil-based consumerism, he rides his bicycle (see p. 137) nearly everywhere including, for over ten years, the 22 miles from his house to a jobsite at Kirtland Air Force base where he cleaned the officers' swimming pool three times a week.

As a ten-year-old he was "abused" by male relatives who made him plow a furrow behind a horse until it was straight. There was no allowance for the fact that he, as a ten year old, was being made to do a job even full-grown men found challenging. They said he'd learn from the experience.

His dad, in a similar way, would "simoniz" their car; Vince would have to buff it out. This was in the days when wax was hard and buffing-polishing could take an  entire afternoon. An afternoon when a ten-year-old would normally have been playing ball, or exploring. When he complained that his arm was sore, his dad would yell at him that no one out in the world was going to give him a break and he better get used to it!! Work was something necessary to be endured.

Over the past 40 years as folks have seen how easy it is to become wealthy through song-writing, sports, drugs, sex and other ways that aren't as painful as plowing or simonizing, the much-touted work-ethic has lost its cachet; people have begun to appreciate Chief Joseph's perspective. But unlike the Chief, we've also been inculcated with ideas from Kafka and his ilk. i.e., existentialism and it's fundamental query of "why?"

And one of the things the first inhabitants of this segment of land used to do that garnered them criticism (consider the source) was take their time about decision-making....often a necessary element in answering the above mentioned and now all-important query.

So as you enjoy the beauty of nature, the company of friends, you can also add the sense of pleasure in working (pun intended) your way back to a pre-industrial state wherein simply being, and, perhaps, as Ms. Kipnis posits (was that what the Chief meant?), sex, was enough.

Besides, if Manny says it's so, it's so. 




Thanks to Rolling Steel Tent for inspiring this "discourse."

Torquey The Tornado - Vincent Distasio

I was reminiscing about "the gallery days" and realized it was past-time to post this vid of Vincent Distasio.

A few of his paintings can be seen at http://iac2.com/vincent1.htm

Vince died in March of 2017. Here's his obituary. 

My eulogy.

I have a number of Vince's paintings for sale. Please contact me at mfh20502000@yahoo.com for photos or to see.

Halloween Cat Odor Review

The story is told how cats, literary creatures that they are, glean the latest news, stock reports and foreign affairs from the publication delivered whenever the opportunity arises...via pee mail. 



It's read, or rather flehmmed, with concentration, much the way humans partake of the Yale Law Review, Bloomsbury, or Atlantic Review. As an addition to the aesthetic experience, this song was created to be hummed while reading and/or sung on special occasions such as birthdays, weddings and art receptions. 

It's also a "trick" quickly learned and performed by the beggars, esp the teenagers.*

Vincent Distasio Performs

Happy Halloween!!











* A former neighbor, an elementary teacher, began the tradition of having them perform tricks for their treats; her list included screaming. My usual response to the first attempt is an obviously affected "That was pathetic!" I give a count of three and am, each year, amazed at the enthusiasm embodied in the second and occasionally third performance as the children embrace the encouragement. Watching the teenagers reactions to learning and performing Cat Odor Review is incomparably more valuable (to me) than the wealth of candy I reward them with. Awwwww, maaAAAAANNN!