We Were...
A Joel Hunter Borrelli Snippet 06.17.21
It was a drug-based, sex-based codependent relationship.
It was great.
Some people never get the chance to truly meet their match in life but I met mine.
From the first night we met, we drank too much, partied too much and had sex like we were in trials for the Olympics.
We flirted with death and death flirted back. Our haze was our reality. We both lived in the same foggy dream.
Getting by didn’t seem so bad and ambition appeared to be a sickness shared by some poor souls who lacked direction and lived without a philosophy.
That’s the way we saw it anyway.
We ate enough to absorb the alcohol but not enough to temper its effects.
It was all about balance.
We knew what to do with what and what never to mix together.
We were scientists.
We always enjoyed the way the sun came up in the morning signaling we should get some sleep.
When we were on our game we woke up on time for happy hour. We knew who offered what specials on what different nights.
We were researchers.
Most of our friends all manufactured or procured something for sale which we resold.
We were merchants.
In order to cover ourselves we had to calculate how much we needed to make to pay for our rent, our drinks, drugs, and incidentals like rolling paper and deodorant.
We were planners.
We shared a skill set.
We were survivors while we were killing ourselves.
A Joel Hunter Borrelli Snippet 06.17.21
Thomas’s Big Break
A Joel Hunter Borrelli Snippet 5.26.21
Thomas’s big break came later in life than he would have liked it to. Nonetheless, it was exciting that people finally were beginning to appreciate what he had recognized long ago.
Thomas was truly ahead of his time when he began. He had to develop a thick skin as many of his contemporaries mocked him for his pursuits. He remained laser focused though on his vision.
For him, each of them were passion projects. He saw what others didn’t. Once he started, he used to say, “It’s like the work isn’t even mine. I don’t know where the inspiration comes from, I’m just the vessel that gives it life. I’m not a religious man, I’m spiritual and there is some spiritual force that guides me”
Thomas Littlejohn was always considered gifted and his family and friends had thought he’d take a more traditional path. He had married twice and both wives divorced him because they felt they couldn’t compete for his love with his obsession.
No one, not even Thomas can pinpoint exactly how and when it started. Even when people began to take notice of the time he was investing cultivating his craft, they still felt it was innocent enough even if they didn’t think it was wise.
That’s why everyone was surprised when the galleries started calling to exhibit his pieces and wealthy collectors began bidding up his work.
Larry Gagosian was quoted in ARTNews saying “Thomas Littlejohn may become the most important visual artist of his time. His career is just beginning. There may be no one more significant on the art scene than Tom, he’s created something unique.” Since the article was published demand has skyrocketed and Thomas reportedly can’t create pieces fast enough.
I sat down with him recently and he mentioned to me that he’s going to move beyond just toilet art at the end of the summer incorporating both bidets and urinals.
It’s seems that Thomas is finally reaping the benefits and gaining the acclaim and notoriety he justly deserves.
Congratulations Thomas!
A Joel Hunter Borrelli Snippet
5.26.21
Redemption
A Joel Hunter Borrelli Snippet 0-7.11.21
He was more of a never-been than a has-been.
Larry accumulated his scars injecting chemical cocktails and fighting in bars.
He said he didn’t think right when his mind was straight. He only knew himself in an altered state.
Upper middle class family, all the right schools, an athlete, a pedigree, connections, all a successful life’s tools.
But Larry was a boy with privilege who didn’t like rules.
As he got older he was more of a loner, an angry drunk and a steady stoner.
Resentments built and relations got strained, and Larry focused on numbing the pain.
For years and years Larry slept on the streets. Only cardboard boxes between him and concrete.
All the store owners knew his lined face, Saying they wanted him gone, “What a disgrace”
Searching corner trash cans to redeem the 5 cents. Only miles away from the youth he misspent.
Worn and ragged and in search of not more but another 1/5 of cheap whisky and another dope score.
One day on the sidewalk, some boys had a beef, one pulled a gun, and out rang a shot. In the line of fire a young mother pushing a carriage, walking her tot.
Larry didn’t hesitate, he didn’t even flinch, jumping in between, the bullet missing his heart by less than an inch.
Security footage was shown on the news, Larry was hero, a sum of his choices, and what did he choose? Not a life of convention, but a life worth redemption.
A Joel Hunter Borrelli Snippet
07.11.21