Ephemeral Antidotes: The Whole Collection

Here’s the whole shebang! The opening reception for the show was pretty awesome and the look and feel of the whole thing was highly appropriate at Loved To Death/Articulated Gallery. It was so amazing to have so much family and friends there, not to mention collectors I had yet to meet, and even some old friends and classmates I hadn’t seen in 12+ years.

You can purchase all of these works thru them at info@lovedtodeath.net All work is framed, 5×7″ paintings are $250 and all 16×20″ are $1200. (several are sold so be sure to check with them)

“Stabby Rainbow Heart” 5×7″ oil on panel

“Black Madonna” 5×7″ oil on panel

“Queen of the Fucking World” 5×7″ oil on panel

“La Madonna” 5×7″ oil on panel

“Black Madonna 2″ 5×7” (framed) oil on panel

“Black Madonna 2”

And here are my girls with biographies I wrote for them. I should state again — because people get confused — none of these incidents are real. The methods are real, but these women never existed. My brain, it makes things up!

“Blind Deviant” 16×20″ oil on linen


The daughter of a baker, Diana spent her childhood in the markets peddling goods and taking care of her mother. There were no entertainments, no leisure, but this she did not mind. As her eyes began to cloud, the blindness set in as she grew into a striking and provocative figure. The people said her blindness was punishment; she pleasured herself too much, she lent herself to men, that God only blinds those who are perverted. Sensing not a drop of vulgarity in Diana, an old woman from the market knew of ways to improve eyesight. Tea made from the gallbladder of a nightingale, drops of it unto the eyelashes, and satchels with feathers to carry. She took Diana to the church to be cured, but not holy water, rose water, or prayers could change her vision. Politely declining the offers of a needle or knife to her eyes, she consigned herself to her father’s bakery, in the basement ovens away from the public. No one wanted to buy tainted bread from a sexual deviant.

“Carriers and Transference” 16×20″ oil on linen


When the plague arrived in the town of Loxi, the landowners and merchants fled to their villas by the lake; assured that the purity of vast orchards and water would save them. The harbor was sealed, and fires were lit. As the town burned, young Vita, the chief magistrate’s daughter, grew diseased. Fleas were carried on the backs of rats and through the wind. Vita was bathed in rose water. She took it all in stride, receiving her meals locked in the attic while her bed sheets were boiled daily and lavender sprigs were chewed to ward off further infection. It was well known that several physicians had tried a successful method — first with a puppy, and then a frog — of transference. Vita’s favorite cat would do nicely, she was ordered to hold it to her stomach, and transfer the disease unto it. For 3 days she kept it close to her skin, but the cat did not inherit her sickness. And thus, little by little, the footsteps and voices of the home went quiet. The stillness would on occasion be broken by the flutter of leaves on the trees, the breeze on the waters, and the purrs of a black cat.

“Carriers” detail

“Daughters of Maternal Impression” 16×20″ oil on linen.

Marie and Helen

Born as dicephalic parapagus twins into an aristocratic family boasting dynastic continuity (their fortunes, sadly, had not continued as such) the doctors proclaimed they were an unfortunate result of maternal impression: their mother attended a public hanging while pregnant and surely this was the cause of such bizarre monstrosity. While still infants, their mother tried to cut them apart with shears, but this was futile, it was learned, as the girls shared too many bones. As Marie and Helen grew into beauties, word had spread by pilgrims and curious travelers of the two-headed woman. What better way to renew lost family fortunes than to put it on display? This was under the guise of friendly and social intercourse, as well as economics. Their fame grew, as did their wardrobes and estates. Marriage was proposed many times over, but nothing would come of it, and the twins preferred it as such. They became a glittering showpiece, stars of the stage rather than carnival attraction.  They died at the age of 28; physicians theorized it was due to their body containing too little blood for both beings to carry on.

“Violets for Heart Veins” 16×20″ oil on linen.


The spoiled and somewhat devious daughter of a provincial magnate, her coughing fits and coloring were said to have been caused by her 5 uncles incessant smoking. Lana inherited her mother’s chest pains, but this the good doctor knew how to handle: smoke of burnt chicken feathers; a diet of radishes, or radishes rubbed on the skin; and teas made from violets. When the symptoms persisted – irritating her uncles who were now forbade to smoke – a surgeon said to have studied The Hippocratic Corpus, was called upon. Administering violets direct to the veins leading to the heart, he assured the family it would have a calming effect. Lana would perish not a month later, the product of a botched surgery, with flower petals lodged in her chest and much blood lost. The surgeon then conceded he had only skimmed The Hippocratic Corpus.

“Skin of the Fox Cures the Pox” 16×20″ oil on linen.


Believing that abundance was a breeding ground for boredom, she resorted to simplify her life when her parents had passed on, leaving her a modest house and income. Opting for an existence of piety, Mary had all the furniture and objects cleared away, until, ‘nothing but surfaces of stone, wood, and few linen sheets remained’ according to the housekeeper. It was anyone’s guess how she contracted small pox in this environment. The servant’s child? A beggar? The priest? When tinctures of yarrow flower did no good, a cure of wolf skin wrapped around the infected areas was ordered. Believing this to be too decadent, Mary opted for a fox instead. It was not the flies or the raw infection that caused her death only days later, but simply a case of bronchitis. The wise women of the town shook their heads, ‘she should have chosen the wolf skin!’

“Sawed” 16×20″ oil on linen.


An ambassador’s daughter with a passion for collecting, Gretchen’s menagerie was near complete when her father brought her the gift of a leopard cub from his travels. It was a sweet little thing, soft and playful, abiding to his mistress when she dressed it up in clothes meant for little boys. But, even the smallest of creatures will start to give in to their nature. It was thought that a flock of geese had spooked him during a game of fetch on the lawns. Gretchen was adamant the leopard knew not what he did, that his claws were bigger than his wits when he mauled her at the legs, dragging her before his final release. No potions, no humours, no herbs or witchcraft could save her. The legs would come off, and all one could do was pray. Pray for the surgeon, pray for the tools, and pray she did not die from enduring it all. Gretchen would never be the same after that, lost to a world of darkness and time, languishing in bed, never speaking a word except a whisper to her pets.

Send In The Clowns, Unless They Scare You

The preview for the “Evolution of the Clown” group show at Distinction Gallery is ready and bids have started to come in.  Please share the link if you dig, art, portraits, clowns and harlequins.

The “buy it now” prices will end on Saturday at 9pm pst.  The remaining pieces will be straight auction through September 4th at 3pm pst.  Bidding is very simple and can be done directly online.

You can nab these two babies for a steal, and a good cause…

Art World Linky Poos

To end the year, how about a bunch of links to stories, lectures, and writings about the art world? Oh why not….

ArtLA cancels but may go at it again next year.

The Art Market as explained by James Panero

When the Bottom Fell Out of the Art Market via Aarting.com

How To Make Art History via The Economist

Newark, Newark! Cheap studio, another reason I moved to Cleveland from Los Angeles, kids.

An oldie, but a goodie, from the Frieze fair starring Dave Hickey

More so than last year, Pop Surrealist, Low Brow, New Contemporary gained more ground during Art Basel Miami as well as sold out exhibitions in N. America, Europe, Japan; museum retrospectives, and the inclusion of people such as Robert Williams into the Whitney Biennale were also some major turning points. Auctions sales of Old Masters as well as inclusion of more painters in various important shows have also been a trend. They told me 10 years ago at CalArts that painting was dead, and that I’d get nowhere with representational painting…humpf!

One Night in Pittsburgh

I have to stop going to Pittsburgh for only one to six hours! I never get to do all the things I want, and I usually pack so much in that the drive back at night sucks beyond belief. I still haven’t been to any of the museums, let alone anywhere outside of the North Shore and Little Italy areas. Oh yeah, and IKEA. Seriously, can I please find someone to go on a day trip with who doesn’t need to hit the IKEA?

Saturday was my show at Box Heart Gallery (always super nice people) and it was a fun trip — albeit a fast one. Lots of interesting conversations and people. It is cool when people see my stuff in person rather than online, they always remark how different it is (some people thought my painting were airbrushed at first) and they can catch details that they didn’t notice before or that a computer screen just translate as well.

Pittsburgh is a place I’m going to try and make an effort to explore more the coming year I think. The architecture and layout is very different than most cities; I like the row houses that are much like the ones in Baltimore, and all the bars — no matter how renovated — all look like a watering hole out of film noir. Something about the leftover art deco decor and the layout — can’t put my finger on it. Speaking of watering holes, we of course stopped at my favorite place, Brillobox, for a an early dinner and beer slurping. The highlight was as we were walking in, a woman who looked much like Amy Winehouse (messed up hair, make-up, skinny and all) stumbled over to ask us for cigarettes; I totally thought she was on junk or crack, but as it turned out she was just REALLY hammered and one of the few patrons at the bar (she followed us in off the street which weirded me out, and I had my fist ready in case she was going to pull something). Someone put the band Television on the jukebox and she got up and danced by herself for quite a long time — and by danced — I mean moved in rhythm just enough not to completely fall over. This was at 5pm, so she must have started early, and it was our entertainment while we waited for our dinner. It was all good, as I remember one night where Ben and I got a little too loaded and abused that same jukebox like crazy — Duran Duran “Ordinary World” was put on at least three times, and not by me. Anyways here are some photos from the night….


Ben at Brillobox getting an eye full of the gal drunken dancing to Television; and wondering if they are hiring at that indie-rock strip club in Portland?

Me after beer, nachos, wine, cookies, and coffee. Next time, I’m getting a motel!


Sadly the Starbucks on the turnpike was closed at midnight, so we settled for McDonald’s coffee. I thought this notice about nugget sauce abuse was pretty funny. You know once and a while some dude is probably like, “this is bullcrap; this won’t stand!”

Alexia is Back

For almost a year I had this painting marked as "sold", mainly because the gallery told me they sold it. Makes sense right?

What they meant to say, and that I have discovered this afternoon, was in fact this piece with a similar name had sold. So, you know, anyone who had in the past inquired about the purple haired Alexia de Luc can now know she is back on the market if they want to snag her.

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Another baby painting, 5×7 inches oil on panel. Sold…

I’ve been in a pink-haired phase lately, I don’t know why. When I was a little girl I hated the color pink — hated it. I’d look at the color pink and just think “Pepto Bismol” in my head, or just plain “puke!” But now, I could totally live with a pink interior or something like this and not be bothered.


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