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Description
"I moved back and forth across the edge of sleep, thinking of that afterglow, trying to explain it to myself. With the mink, the musk ox, the chimpanzee, and the human, the proper friction in the proper places if continued for x minutes will cause the nerve ends to trigger the small glandular-muscular explosive mechanics of climax. And after ward there is no more urge to caress the causative flesh than there would be to stroke the shaker that contained the pepper that caused a satisfying series of sneezes.

So in the sensual-sexual-emotional areas each man and each woman has, maybe, a series of little flaws and foibles, hang-ups, neural and emotional memory pattern and superstition, and if there is no fit between their complex subjective patterns, then the only product you can expect is the little frictional explosion, but when there is the mysterious fit, then maybe there are bigger and better explosions down the in the ancient black meat of the hidden brain, down in the membraned secret rooms of the heart, so that what happens within the rocking clamp of the loins at that same time is only a grace note, and then it is the afterglow of affection and contentment that celebrates the far more significant climax in brain and heart."

-John D. MacDonald

Here's the last of the good old stuff for the Forgotten Works Challenge. Where to begin? Art-wise, it began with a little watercolor I dashed off in a few hours way back in 2000. I posted it in my portfolio on modelmayhem.com where it's gotten some great responses. What constantly amazes me is that the less time and effort I feel I've put into a painting, the more attention it gets. I put it down to those times when I have been fortunate enough to be tapping the great mass collective unconsciousness. Someday all the paintings will come that easy. Most of the 30 paintings in the Challenge certainly did; I wonder which ones(s) will get the most notice?

The new version gets its title from the book of the same name, quoted above. I discovered John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee through a lyric in a Jimmy Buffett song from the summer I graduated.

Over the summer I picked up a few more paperbacks, building a tidy little stack to take along with me to Pittsburgh, where I'd be starting art school in the fall. The pages come from a copy of the book as well.

I've always credited McGee (and MacDonald, for that matter; or is that the other way around?) with helping me maintain my sanity that first year. While other classmates were losing their minds and inhibitions, I was a constant steadying influence on those closest to me. Though I was quick to turn my back on those who failed to learn from their mistakes.

Take the quote above, for instance. Being a dreamer and a romantic, I found it easy to adopt McGee's philosophy in more than just the bedroom area, and I'm glad to say it served me well in those formative years.

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Description
"I moved back and forth across the edge of sleep, thinking of that afterglow, trying to explain it to myself. With the mink, the musk ox, the chimpanzee, and the human, the proper friction in the proper places if continued for x minutes will cause the nerve ends to trigger the small glandular-muscular explosive mechanics of climax. And after ward there is no more urge to caress the causative flesh than there would be to stroke the shaker that contained the pepper that caused a satisfying series of sneezes.

So in the sensual-sexual-emotional areas each man and each woman has, maybe, a series of little flaws and foibles, hang-ups, neural and emotional memory pattern and superstition, and if there is no fit between their complex subjective patterns, then the only product you can expect is the little frictional explosion, but when there is the mysterious fit, then maybe there are bigger and better explosions down the in the ancient black meat of the hidden brain, down in the membraned secret rooms of the heart, so that what happens within the rocking clamp of the loins at that same time is only a grace note, and then it is the afterglow of affection and contentment that celebrates the far more significant climax in brain and heart."

-John D. MacDonald

Here's the last of the good old stuff for the Forgotten Works Challenge. Where to begin? Art-wise, it began with a little watercolor I dashed off in a few hours way back in 2000. I posted it in my portfolio on modelmayhem.com where it's gotten some great responses. What constantly amazes me is that the less time and effort I feel I've put into a painting, the more attention it gets. I put it down to those times when I have been fortunate enough to be tapping the great mass collective unconsciousness. Someday all the paintings will come that easy. Most of the 30 paintings in the Challenge certainly did; I wonder which ones(s) will get the most notice?

The new version gets its title from the book of the same name, quoted above. I discovered John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee through a lyric in a Jimmy Buffett song from the summer I graduated.

Over the summer I picked up a few more paperbacks, building a tidy little stack to take along with me to Pittsburgh, where I'd be starting art school in the fall. The pages come from a copy of the book as well.

I've always credited McGee (and MacDonald, for that matter; or is that the other way around?) with helping me maintain my sanity that first year. While other classmates were losing their minds and inhibitions, I was a constant steadying influence on those closest to me. Though I was quick to turn my back on those who failed to learn from their mistakes.

Take the quote above, for instance. Being a dreamer and a romantic, I found it easy to adopt McGee's philosophy in more than just the bedroom area, and I'm glad to say it served me well in those formative years.

SOLD