And once again I speak wrong

The concept is fairly clean and pure.  I'm seriously out of practice when it comes to the romance tangent of my public behavioral awning.

The latest incident is truly lame and a story I probably shouldn't tell, but never let it be said that I back away from personal horror stories.  Practice makes perfect.

Everything is foundation building and yes, by this age, the foundation should be finished, but I'm here to assure you that it is indeed not complete and much more work seems quite apparent.

The story:
I'm at a party, which is abnormal behavior in the first place, and I'm having a very nice first moment meeting with a beautiful woman. 

By the way, the party was a real estate/street art combo event that was attended by a wide variation of human beings;  small to large, old to new, hip to almost hip, intelligent to huh, tattooed to anti-tats, well dressed to about as casual as casual gets. There were a few artist represented but the main attraction was RISK....aka.....Kelly Graval.  The fact that Mr. Graval and my mom both went to the same high school has nothing to do with anything so forget I even told you.  The fact that RISK is a Trojan makes everything....perfect. A huge part of me ( The ELF project of 2010)  felt I belonged and the few people I shared with.....fully seemed to enjoy my "street crime."   Everywhere Little Fuckers might have been created just for this crowd.  I'm quite sure if all the photographs were framed and hung on a wall at a gallery....many of the people at this party would be potential collectors.

Side bar:
There's a uniform being worn by younger men that really does honor the gangsta genre.  Imagine Ed Hardy and Zorro without the cape and mask. The hats vary, of course, but the look is dark and cool.  A dark and cool look covering skin that seems to be incredibly interested in being it's own piece of art.  Obviously tats are a personal statement being made, while not having to explain anything to anybody.  I see designs on young women and young men and I want to start asking questions about the moment of decision making.
"What's the story on that arm......what made you select that design for that shoulder?"  Of course I don't ask because I don't have a tat and unless I have one I can't really chit chat about the experience.  I'm not a reporter for INK.....but I do get curious about motivation and especially on a woman with a beautiful face.

Back to the story:
I shouldn't be even thinking about age while talking to her, but I'm mentally (at that moment) guessing hers to be about 45 or maybe even 50.  She really has a beautiful face.....in fact I think I've drawn her a few times....but for some ungodly reason and due to the fact that I'm really out of practice in the romance category.....I say the following words.

"You really have a beautiful face....but it must have been truly stunning when you were 17, 18 or 19." 

I'm not even sure those are the exact words I used, but the texture of the comment was well within the foliage of those combined letters.

I can actually still see the look on her face as the words came out of my mouth.

Our time together didn't last very long after that moment. 

Our conversation before that moment had been continuously lovely and informative (on both sides) and seemed to be leaning in a direction that could result in friendship, at the very least....and maybe something more intimate. I really liked talking to her and I'm pretty sure she found my banter interesting and then suddenly from the depths of the MIND JAZZ creator.....comes words that not only shut the door but torn down the house and bulldozed the property.

Where do I go to practice my romance techniques?

It might actually be impossible to reclaim any semblance of romantic dialogue because in truth I might not be destined for anymore flavor in that arena.  I'll always love....but I might not get to be in love again.  I  use the word might because optimism is still floating in the canals of my imagination. It's on a life raft but it's still above water.  It might have a slight leak but duct tape comes in lots of colors.

Since I just completed another Period in my artistic development and am fully excited about entering the next phase, which hopefully will become a Period, I'm probably needing to stay close to my tools....which means less time outside with the tribes....especially those tribal members who meet at parties and try to avoid stupid comments like.......

"You have a beautiful face......it must have been really beautiful when you were a teenager."

I 'm really not well.

I wish she could have seen through the stupid guy and told the other guy in here that the other guy's comment was really stupid and could that guy simply think before he spoke and maybe even a better idea would be for that other guy to never say another fucking word for the rest of his life.

She would have done that if she had been the one.

That's the type of insight I need from a woman and I'm not sure the Universe has the patience to deliver both a new Period of art
and
a beautiful woman with tremendous insight
at the same time.

It always seems to be one or the other.

I'll take the new art Period with open arms and loving grace, but I'm here to announce that I sorta miss the other dealio.

But one thing I do know for sure.......I'm really not a party person.

Of course I could always go to a party and just keep my mouth shut.

Na....that's really not possible.

But since I'm the only guy I know who has been uninvited to a party, it's possible that parties and I just weren't meant to be held in the same building.

When is that next Gallery opening? 
Gallery openings are not really parties so maybe I'll be ok.

Na.......that's really not possible.

Maybe I should just focus on my Gallery opening and get fully prepared for that experience
which means
more time in
less time out.

Time OUT!

Michael Timothy McAlevey