The death of an old friend.

I just discovered that the first person who ever bought my art, who also was my first art dealer, passed away just over a year ago. He was a Danish surrealist who had somehow found himself living in the desolate Michigan town I was born in. Without his cantankerous wit, world worn humor and many long conversations about the world, life, and art I would have lost my mind as a young man. He once imparted a truth I till hold onto – that if you are going to be an artist, you have to make it your job, you have to live art, it has to feed you. RIP Helmuth.


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