Nothing shakin' on shakedown street

Sioux Buffalo Horn knife with beaded hide sheath and parfleche - Blue Heron Gallery

Ricardo sent me a note the other day and mentioned that there was not a lot of action on the blog, hardly any comments, hint, hint. Reality is I have been working for several months cataloging an extensive collection and I am about three quarters through. Honestly, I am completely exhausted and my back is out.

Yesterday I picked up another wonderful and large collection of early Plains and Plateau beadwork. Honestly, I have been on a tear.

I have a lot of work to do before I am finished photographing and listing the stuff both on my website and on the few remaining spaces for the Objects of Art virtual show on February 24th.

So work is going to take precedence. That is the way it is. I don't have much else to give right now. Business is good and I am not getting off the train while it's moving.

Last year was my most prolific year yet for writing. The last time I had a big year, 2013, the next year I went quiet for a long time. My worst year. Might happen again. 

But if you can hold out there might just be more music and photos. Only so much in the tank. My wife and my financial well being and stability has to take precedence.

Pima basketry horse and wagon with padre beads
- 28" long, Turn of the century - Blue Heron Gallery

Covid has been pretty good for me in a financial sense. Hate to say it, it sounds terrible and the human side of the tragedy is staggering and horrific. But it has put me to work. Odd that I don''t really miss the shows from a money standpoint but I do miss my friends and compatriots. Pushing my web presence has certainly not hurt in the pandemic interim. You do what you got to do.

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Sioux scalp knife collected in Pine Ridge

It is getting harder to bare my breast and get personal on the blog. The election nonsense was so traumatizing and we all spent a lot of time trying not to step on each other's toes. Tempers were raised, friendships were splintered, feelings were hurt. There was a considerable amount of more nasty, anonymous trolling.

I'd rather not wade into all that, less tension over here in the shallow end of the pool. My readership has increased about 40% in the last year, almost approaching 2011-12 numbers before Google changed their algorithm. The bigger it gets the harder it is to really share for me, not sure why. Less familiar perhaps. More like talking to strangers. Don't want to expose.

If I had the money and druthers I would be writing more short fiction, which is a vehicle for speaking truths that are shielded and personal and which might otherwise offend or bother people. But I don't have the time, luxury or inclination to give that part of myself that really matters at the moment. Sorry.

Hope that I am feeling it again soon.

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For the second time in a month I have lost a painting. Searched a day last time, finally found it in a place I had looked a hundred times. Today it was a painting I sold Michael. I have his money in my pocket and the painting is gone. What am I going to tell him? And I will have to pay Dixon for it and take a little bath.

Four hours tearing apart every cranny of my shop and no luck.

I went to the chiropractor on the coast and called Ken on the way back. He told me to sit down for a few minutes, take a breath and remember where I put it. I walked into the gallery and walked straight to it, in the very place I left it, can you imagine that?

Thank you Ken. Thank you everybody.