Live from The Empress hotel

An unusual day today. No one picked up one of my brushes and no one tried to paint on my canvas. Jim the painter complained that the leather was too clean and the chrome was too shiny in my motorcycle art paintings. While touching up the walls, he wanted to touch up my paintings and make them feel real. I like them clean.

Live from the Empress Hotel

I am going to have to put up a sign that says ‘Painting in Progress’. I was at my computer sending Richard jpegs of my paintings. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed someone picking up one of my brushes. The thought of someone calling Security jumped to my brain and so I jumped out of my chair. “Can I paint?”, asked the woman who couldn’t wait to do just that. “No”, I said. I told her what had happened yesterday and said I didn’t want to work around the work of 2 painters. She told me how whe used to paint, how she doesn’t anymore, how she walked by yesterday and wanted to paint the canvas then as well, and how she had finally picked up the courage to pick up the brush to paint. I told her that from the way she held the brush, she needed to paint. She comes to the Hotel often and says that upon her return, she will show me what she has painted.

Live from The Empress Hotel

As the new artist in residence at The Empress Hotel, I will be showcasing my artwork in The Gallery on the Upper Lobby for the next 4 months. At present, I have my motorcycle art in one room and in the other room are portraits of a young Emily Carr from my exhibition at the Royal BC Museum in 2011. My aim is to post everyday something that happened in the day.
I would have posted this story yesterday but had to find out how to post a blog as I had forgotten how to. My web designer Caprina, just sent me my link and directions and so now I am able to write what happened.
When I went for lunch, I came back to see Security looking grim beside the painting of a totem that I was working on. Security told me that the man sitting on the couch had picked up my brushes and painted on my canvas. “The police are on their way”, he told me.
I looked at what the man had done and rather liked it. The police arrived shortly and I asked if the man was going to be charged. “Not if you don’t want him to be”. I told them that I absolutely did not want him to be charged. The police talked to the man and returned to tell me that the man would now give me a formal apology.
He came up to me and I don’t know exactly what he said but he was sorry. I asked him his name which he gave me. Then I told him he was a good artist and that I would not remove what he had done but incorporate it into my painting. He hugged me, I hugged him back and he left.

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