the art of robert amador: Nothing Too Loose

Last December, my bestest good friend Jason Graham, drove from Portland to do a show with yours truly, at Nihon Gallery. I also took on the curator position the very same month i'd be showing, thinking it wouldnt be too big a deal to curate, since ive pretty much been curating and booking my own shows for the past 3 years.
So the first month im curating/organizing shows, im also busy busting my ass, trying to get some good drawings in, after all, i was showing with The Great Jason Graham, rapidograph killer.
Adding to the stress, in true hollywood style, Jasons car broke down in some small town outside of Sacramento, and after a few attempts at getting the hunk of junk running, proved unsuccessful, it seemed like the show wasnt gonna happen and Jason would have to stay there, and paint murals on barns to pay his way back. Im double freaking out as one half of the art show that might not happen, and as the curator for the gallery, one whos trying to get the show he put together up and going in time.
Then I get the triumphant call
"Im on my way! be there in a few hours!"
"did you get your car fixed?"
"nope"
-turns out theres still some good folks out there; Jasons mechanic let him borrow his personal vehicle so he could make it down to his art show, and I quote,
"Im gonna fix this fucking car man..... you cant take it...i'll fix it..here....take my keys...go do your art show!"
I imagine the towns people cheering Jason on, with banners and posters at the edge of town as Jason zoomed through, leaving a cloud of dust behind him, with Adoline in the passenger seat, her white mane blowing in the wind , that blank stare in her eyes, and her toungue half out the side of her mouth. Anyways, J got into town the night before the show, we got up early and hung the show, went home, took much needed showers (yes, together) grabbed some Vegan-ized Taco Bell, and by the time we went back to the Gallery, there were people already waiting to get in. I was super exhausted the entire week, no wait, the entire fucking month. Luckily Steve Ruppel jumped on as preparator/half of the brains, of Nihon and he was there doing all the shit that I needed to do, while I did other stuff I needed to do, in half the time that I would have done it.
heres something i wrote up for the Nihon Gallery blogspot:

The week building up to the opening night was truly a hectic one. We sanded, painted, built, destroyed, and rebuilt again. We swallowed dangerous looking dust that fell from the light fixtures. Dust, which Im sure had to be as old as Chinatown itself, and which, Im also sure, took a few years off our lives. We ate terribly, and slept just as well.
We also stressed heavily; Jason's car broke down an hour outside of Sacramento, where he waited for 4 days as the mechanics unsuccessfully attempted to get his '68 Volkswagon to come back from the dead.
He finally made it into town the night before the opening, having borrowed the mechanics personal vehicle and packing it to the brim with art. It was a true show of Art Heroics.
We got all the art up and looking good, just hours before the opening. People showed up early, and there were hardly any moments when the place wasn't packed to capacity.
Racelegs, Rademacher, and Wheels Of Fortune, also threw their hats into the mix, providing a soundtrack to the show, playing next door, inside of Debts to Society, to an extremly crammed, but very happy to be there, crowd.
It was all worth it.