blizzards and painting

I built my first snowman of my life today at 31. I also painted this painting:

stormy sky and sea study #1

so far so good.

Reading Books Reminds Me of Stories

American Gods

by Neil Gaiman 

Once I was standing in the boiler room at the House on the Rock located near Gnome, Wisconsin. A tiny town that featured gnomes of all shapes and sizes on every lawn. I think they took it all quite seriously. The insanity of the entire place, let alone the boiler room, hit me while staring at the naked mannequins with 80s hair and makeup hanging off the ceiling with wings attached. The walls were blood red and while it was a sizeable room, it felt claustrophobic because of the amount of things crammed into it.  In it was the largest carousel in the world and a series of symphonic robots playing cellos and violins with missing strings that seemed to have been tuned back when they bought the mannequins. I had a panic attack and saw nothing more of the House on the Rock. Revisiting it in Neil Gaiman’s American Gods made it much more fun. The carousel in the boiler room is a meeting point for all the bastardized imported gods from the old world that have all become oddly American. Is Neil Gaiman British? Is he American? I don’t know, but he got my favorite band and long time friends to play his birthday party in New Orleans and I wasn’t invited. Bummer. I still think Neil Gaiman rules (though next time invite me, ok?) and this story captures a piece of what I’ve always wanted to write. Playing on the theological beliefs come to life and wreak havoc on the people who either do or don’t believe in them, like a modern day American polytheist version of Master and Marguerita.