That’s me...I’m Dusty.
I’m a painter (I remind myself as I pull another splinter from my hand),
but not just any painter. You see, I’m the next painter, the very first one after the last.
Every time I show, I sell. Every time I sell, I sell out…
Just a little closer. Remember: not just any painter,
the boy to remember--the wild card, the outsider--
that’s me (I remind myself as the alarm goes off at 5:30 a.m.).
I’m the one to step up to the plate.
The Warhol, the Basquiat, the Pollock.
How can they stop me when I wont quit?
Will they ever see me? (I ask myself @ lunch: 30 minutes.)
Opinionated, uneducated--a mind, a vocabulary & some paint.
A reason to succeed, a predetermined future.
(If I clean my brushes now, I can get 3 hours sleep before work.)
I’m a painter; I’m immortal, live forever,
Unforgettable, undeniable
(Ramen noodles taste good w/salt).
NY one-man show-SOLD OUT
The headlines read DUSTY DUSTY DUSTY
Has any one told the art schools no one is hiring artists?
Sunday classified (Professional)-----------Great painter. Live forever.
Go down in history. $5.75 an hour plus tips!!!!
An equal opportunity employer.
I'm a painter. I remind myself every hour of every day.
I’ve got calluses, a backache and a negative bank account.
I’m a painter; I’m surrounded w/ beautiful women most every day,
I laugh out loud all the time, I can cry when I choose.
I’m a painter and, 15 minutes just won't do.