My mom took me and Chris to see Stephen Belber's Tape on friday night and the Gladstone (great show, a 17-person audience sits in a hotel room and watches the story unfold.) See this show if you can. Afterwards, we were walking down the street and got invited into an art opening. A familiar-looking interestingly-clad assortment of local musicians and painters was there - not an unfriendly environment at all, but not my mood that night. The paintings were kinda neat thought. Kind of a sci-fi Group of Seven. I wish I could remember the name of the artist.
Outside, we ran into Lesley, the Queen Street West outpatient guy who makes drawings and sells them to people in bars with a nudgey persistence. You know the guy - he has been doing this for years.
The style seems to vary, perhaps according to his medication. His drawings are always childish, but he carries a stack of them, and has specific explanations about each simple sketch "this is a stargate. This is the feeling you have when you wake up form a bad dream. This is the sound that aliens make when they say goodbye..." "I noticed you are drawing more straight lines these days," I commented. "Yeah," he answered. "I got a fine-tip pen."