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Mark Travis
Friday, December 14th, 2007 08:33 pmMark Travis aka The Famous Black Man has passed on.
It must have been sometime in the fall of 2000 that I met Mark Travis. Sitting on the sidewalk in front of his studio, I think we were drinking wine coolers and Screwdrivers, he'd point out the brain splatter print that never came out of the concrete after someone jumped off his building. He was the building manager for his apartment building and spent most of his time painting naked ladies.
I'd go over every few months and look at his new paintings, drink, and watch movies on his two televisions. I'd refuse to model for him.
He came to Zane's and my Halloween party when we lived on Sherman Street, he fell in love with my mother, only to wake up alone on a lawn the next day.
We ran into each other at parties, I'd show up at his openings, we were friends.
Mark, as a much younger man, once caught a terrible illness from kissing a girl. Lacking medical care and full of stubborn, the illness settled in his heart and never completely cleared. He had been very sick for many years. He is listed in my Last Will and Testament as the recipient of my heart, for transplant, should I go before he did.
I loved you Mark, and your constant reference to your "Alabama Black Snake." Thanks for introducing me to drinking Greyhounds. I bet there's lots of blond women with huge asses in heaven.
Some of his recent art is here: http://spacegallery.org/MarkTravis.html
It must have been sometime in the fall of 2000 that I met Mark Travis. Sitting on the sidewalk in front of his studio, I think we were drinking wine coolers and Screwdrivers, he'd point out the brain splatter print that never came out of the concrete after someone jumped off his building. He was the building manager for his apartment building and spent most of his time painting naked ladies.
I'd go over every few months and look at his new paintings, drink, and watch movies on his two televisions. I'd refuse to model for him.
He came to Zane's and my Halloween party when we lived on Sherman Street, he fell in love with my mother, only to wake up alone on a lawn the next day.
We ran into each other at parties, I'd show up at his openings, we were friends.
Mark, as a much younger man, once caught a terrible illness from kissing a girl. Lacking medical care and full of stubborn, the illness settled in his heart and never completely cleared. He had been very sick for many years. He is listed in my Last Will and Testament as the recipient of my heart, for transplant, should I go before he did.
I loved you Mark, and your constant reference to your "Alabama Black Snake." Thanks for introducing me to drinking Greyhounds. I bet there's lots of blond women with huge asses in heaven.
Some of his recent art is here: http://spacegallery.org/MarkTravis.html
