A friend saw this photo and wondered about the art. – JDW….
You know Bill Burroughs? My painting is a large oil portrait of that Naked Lunch author.
Fascinating man.
Maybe twenty-five years ago, I was assigned a story promoting well-to-do ladies in pearls and black dresses which got me to a tres swanky affair. An insouciant white wine was served in large glasses.
Big room, many bars; a guy might conjure a circuit.
I was wearing my double-breasted tuxedo on loan from a secondhand clothing store on Northwest Twenty-Third. Shoulder pads made me look like I belonged in a Talking Heads music video on MTV.
I was studying heiresses.
***
There was a silent auction. Excessive drinking was doubtlessly encouraged.
Portland Art Museum had gleaned its collection and donated that painting.
Bill’s portrait is big and ugly and dark, an impressionistic look at a gay drug addict who missed the highball glass and shot his wife. Killed her dead. And basically got away with it.
Painting is kinda scary and a little horrific. Hideous green.
Cannot for the life of me understand why nobody else bid on the work.
Guess nobody else was that drunk.
Cost me forty dollars. Must be worth twice that by now.
Kinda thing you wouldn’t want in your house.
First thing you see when you walk in my door. My wife just loves it. Maybe not so much.
It was Burroughs who first convinced me I would’ve been much better off as a trust fund baby.
