Posts Tagged ‘tunnel’

Liberty Wheeling

06 Apr


Wheeling Suspension Bridge


After a month and several big AND small truckloads back and forth from DC, I'm finally nested here in my new "art studio" in Wheeling. Can you believe that parking in a Wheeling city lot at the end of my block only costs $1/month?

Compare that to $300/month to rent an outdoor space at my condominium in Washington, WHEN one is available, which isn't often. All roads I now figure lead to Wheeling, even the proverbial strait and narrow one apparently, if all these churches and ecumenical billboards populating hill and dale are any indication, although frankly the only straight & narrow road I've seen since I got here to the Mountaineer State is the short narrow stretch of I-70 running through the Wheeling Tunnel.

The studio sports a wonderful sun porch panorama of the historic Ohio River at the rear of the apartment with nothing between my eyes and the river but a blacktopped bike path and a couple of modest trees that will probably block my view once nature goes for the annual green once again. And the I-70 Bridge with its continuous clout of eighteen wheelers grinding to the gears of American ego can be seen just a few hundred feet south. Aiming to get the word out that I am here and ready for action, I've been working the past few days on the STEEL & GRISTLE website, my "What the Flummox Am I Doing in Wheeling, WV" calling card, so to speak, but I'm obnoxious, and in the mood to take brush to canvas again. Stalled since quitting in January to prepare for the February show at MOCA DC and the subsequent quest for new space, only the April lions of interesting architecture from a bygone era can fathom what pose the paint will strike next.

Another dead space in this vast here I am, a risky fighter to the last drop of blood in these cholesterol paced veins. The lion roars until the end. Listening to KMFDM's World War III on the radio. My painting calls from the studio, a door beyond the room with no ears, and yet I am just such a stalwart to refuse to quit the word when she squats to the scarlet carpet in search of a nickel song. We've both had enough changes in our lifetimes, we feel ready to pine for posterity now, until we recall how boring, how quickly and decisively boring that would be. Like eating toast on one's deathbed.



"Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw. Souls grow on bones, but die beneath bankers' hours.""