i grew up mostly in small towns, moved once in high school. i kept up with old friends in a new place and began to feel like i had one foot in yesterday one in tomorrow. so i started walking. i dropped out of art school for irreconcilable differences. lived with parents, lived with friends, worked odd jobs, spent time in mental institutions. none of that really stuck but i kept studying and painting. i worked the night shift for 3 years making minimum wage. i got lots of practice doing shit i didnt like to do. i always stuck around hoping there was something i could do to make things better. in the end it took all summer to buy this old truck (jenny) off a friend of mine. i told my dad i was taking it on a test run and called him up 3 days later from new york city to say i was stayin. i sold my art on the street for about a year, staying at wards island, brooklyn hostels, and ultimately an artist colony in a studio. i went down to new orleans with a friend to check out the oil spill and try to help. came back to visit friends and family but i cant stay. now that my truck is still out in nola and im out of touch with the man i left it with im learning about other travel options. i can paint an academic quality picture with walmart paint and scrap in 3 hours or less, i can play guitar and sing tolerably well, im familiar with the rudiments of camping etc, and i know karate and dirty jokes. im going back north asap but i get the feeling ill be doing a lot more traveling before long. pleased to meet you.
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