I was biking around running errands before I head back to work in the studio. I saw some guys painting one of the local spots, so I decided to stop and watch for a bit.
I'm introduced as old school to this guy. In my head I'm thinking, nah man, I'm just old. He tells me what he writes and it dawns on me I know this guy, I call him by his real name and he gives me the wtf with an accent I didn't really expect to hear. It was an old friend I used to paint with back in the late 90's when we both lived in Portland. He moved to Europe around the same time I moved to Boise. To know me is to know I'm the worst at keeping in touch. I think we exchanged emails maybe twice in the last 12 years, and it was like no time had gone by at all. We caught up, talked about people and events I haven't thought of in years. Anyway, needless to say, I went home, grabbed my camera and pretty much fucked work off completely.
It was truly surreal.
The piece off to the left wasn't finished, I'll snap flix tomorrow.
