I'm just the social type of person who can handle crowds of strangers. I finished entering a local art show in the same room as 25-30 others. People were looking at me and trying to talk to me. I broke out in a sweat. Hives appeared on the back of my head. I was stammering. This is not good. I am just not the charismatic gentleman that relishes this sort of attention or contact.
This may be the first show in a decade, but it may also be my last. Even now my hands are shaking. I'll keep painting, but let the crowds clamor after my untimely death in some French farmhouse at 93 years of age.
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