This is one of those hard posts that is difficult to make, simply because of the image above. Everything that could possibly be thrown at me in November, was thrown at me. From making the decision to move, leave a job I've been at for five years, falling into the same, sad routine of making the same mistakes with people who aren't serious about being in your life, to losing the family dog of over 13 years, it just felt like everything was falling apart. I don't like to use my blog to talk about overly personal things, but I feel like a lot of people go through the same shit, and we don't talk about it for fear of being judged.

And yet, in this darkness, I was able to pen a 50,000 word novel through it all. I'm looking forward to this new transition, and continuing on pursuing my writing and pushing my art.

Edward Hopper at the VMFA

A few weeks ago, I went to the VMFA to see the Edward Hopper exhibit. It was mainly about his artwork in hotels, and they even had a room at the VMFA set up like one of his paintings that people can rent out. I am someone who strives for detail, and was surprised at how simple his paintings were. In each one, the loneliness stands out as the models are so disconnected from each other. I found out his wife kept insanely detailed notes about his work, and had tons of journals about their travels. More than one person remarked at how lifeless the people in his paintings looked. They were simple, but damn they were amazing to look at. My favorite painting was the house hotel (5th painting down) where the light kind of glows from around it. 

The museum officials could be overbearing and would walk all the way across the room and get on to patrons like they were children. It was annoying. I've been to the Smithsonian more than once, as well as the Museum at Cairo, and none of the officials were as overbearing as the ones at the VMFA. It was difficult to study the brush strokes and colors without some jackass pestering you. 

Shortly after going, my phone began to act up and I took it in to get repaired. It took them a few days to get it back to me, and when they did, all my photos were wiped out. These were a few that I sent to myself, but the detailed shots as well as personal pics and messages ... all gone. 

Anyway, I plan to go back before the exhibit leaves. Hopper has been one of my favorite artists, and I plan to get to the Art Institute of Chicago to see his Nighthawks painting some day. 

Writing Update

If you've been following my blog for years, you know that I also write. Right now, I'm doing the National Novel Writing Month, where you see if you can crack out a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. Right now, I'm sitting at over 30,000 words and along with having to put down our dog of over 13 years and getting a new job, this shit is exhausting. I'm detailing it in my blog, and you can click on the link and follow my progress, along with some of my other writing projects.
https://johnpriceauthor.wordpress.com/2019/11/18/an-update/

Sword Sheath Commission

RVA Farmer's Market Work In Progress

Toning the canvas to this next masterpiece. Usually you tone the canvas before you start a project, but I wanted to make sure I knew where my cool and warm colors were going to be first.

RVA Farmer's Market Work In Progress

I've come to love Richmond, and not just the touristy noticeable places, but also the back alleyways and side streets. i am painting the alley across the street from the Richmond Farmer's Market just at daybreak. The light from the morning sun is just beginning to peer over the top of the building while the streetlights and darkness of the alley adds a stark contrast.

A Golddigging Whore

The first two pages from my next short story, 'Pregator' to be released on September 25. Click the link to preorder your copy.

TOYA LOOKED DOWN AT HER flat, brown stomach. There were no stretch marks, no blemishes, and the smooth, dark shadows where her belly contoured from defined abs was a beautiful sight. She lifted her breasts and watched as she ran her finger down past per belly button. Further, she continued until at last, she touched the trimmed pubes.

She spread her legs and let her fingers continue downward.

Whatever he is doing with his tongue is amazing, she thought, placing her hand on the back of his head, holding him there. 

Damn … right there.

Yes … that’s the spot.

Ooooh … fuck … that tongue of his.

Holy shit.

As Karl ran his tongue inside her, slowly flicking in and out, up and down, he moaned as well. It was almost as if he was getting off from going down on her as much as sh enjoyed receiving it. Holding his bald head there, she could feel the twitches begin to build inside. 

Damn … that bald head of his. A dark skinned man with a beard and bald head … double damn.

It was getting good, too. The sensations began to build up as he swirled his tongue around, flitting back and forth … sucking on her lips and clit. She dug her nails into his shoulders and he stopped. Karl lifted himself toward her and began to kiss her breasts, positioning himself between her legs.

Fuck.

It’s not that he was bad at sex, but he was definitely not the best.

As she attempted to mentally prepare herself for sex with him, she drifted off into fantasies of Martin.

Now that … that was a man who could fuck. 

Karl pushed himself inside and began to rock back and forth, but her mind was nowhere in this. Her mind was on Martin.

It was always on Martin.

Even now as she lay there with Karl’s baby inside her womb, her mind was on the past. The problem was, she hadn’t told Karl yet that he was going to be a daddy. They were still early in their relationship - barely six months. She’d quit taking the pill behind his back, and unfortunately for him, nature took its course. Besides, she’d just found out this morning.

She wanted to get pregnant.

A son. 

Toya wanted a son.

She always wanted a son for some reason.

Her biological clock was ticking, and if she and Karl didn’t work out, at least she’d be set financially. Her fantasy was to be with Martin, but Martin was not only ‘not’ the relationship type, but he was a piece of shit.

Nonetheless, she was still in love with him. She even had his birthday as the password to her phone.

But although she wasn’t in love with Karl, she knew he’d be a great father. Her only agony now was in how to break the news to him. As he pumped back and forth, sliding in and out of hr body, the only feeling greater than the sensation was the emotions she had for another man. It was fucked up, but it wasn’t something she could control. Everyone has that oneperson that stays in their heart, and for her, it was Martin.

Toya wasn’t in the mood for sex tonight. She tried her best to stay in character and moan, but her mind wasn’t in the right place. Unfortunately, Karl could sense it. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, slowing his thrusts to a complete stop.

Toya could feel him hard and erect inside her. He hadn’t come yet, but the throbbing and pulsing could be felt throughout her body.

“What do you mean babe?”

“You’re not here,” he said. 

He pulled himself out and slid over and beside her. Most men were not big on snuggling, but it was something Karl enjoyed. He pressed himself up against her and placed his hand over on her belly. 

“I can just feel it,” he continued. “Something you want to talk about?”

He was obviously disappointed; why wouldn’t he be? She’d just killed the mood.

“Just a lot of shit going on at work and they’re downsizing. I just feel like my job might be on the chopping block,” she lied.

Toya’s position at her job was pretty safe. She was the HR manager for a family-owned car dealership in Richmond, close to where the Staples Mill Road met West Broad Street. Broad Street, in both east and west directions, was the main road that cut through the city. Car dealerships were dotted throughout the city, but the largest, and most successful ones were on Broad Street. 

Toya made pretty decent money, but it wasn’t the best. Karl, as a lover, was the best option for her. At this moment, however, she didn’t feel comfortable breaking the news to him. 

Not now.

Not with his penis still staring back at her.

How she would tell him, she didn’t know. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I’m sorry babe. I wanted to see you tonight, but it’s just weighing on me.”

“No, it’s okay,” Karl said. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really. You don’t mind if I spend the night?” she asked.

Karl didn’t rally like her spending the night. It wasn’t that hat he didn’t trust her or had anything against it. It was that his ex-wife would sometimes drop their children off if she had an early morning appointment. 

Karl had been married for eight years, and upon his divorce, he had partial custody of his children. He and his ex were cordial with each other, and Toya rarely heard him say anything negative about her. However, he was veery protective of his children, even if he didn’t see them but a few times a month. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them - it was that his job forced him to work long hours.

As a trial lawyer who worked for a large corporation in the city, not only did Karl put in a ton of countless hours, but he was paid very, very well in his field of work.

Toya knew this, and she wanted to milk this gravy train as long as she could.

It was wrong. She knew this.

But getting pregnant by him would put her in a better position financially. She was an attractive and sexy woman, with a sweet pussy and tight body, and could easily be trapped regardless of his level of success.

Rich or poor, men were all the same. They were controlled by their desires and easily let down their guard in hopes of quick, and good sex. They would never admit that pussy controlled them, but these were the biological facts.

Men were so stupid. 

https://www.amazon.com/Pregator-John-Price-ebook/dp/B07X48JN2D/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=pregator&qid=1568115741&s=gateway&sr=8-2