Affordable miniature works by an incredible lineup of 80+ top contemporary artists! Each trading card size (2.5″ x 3.5″) piece will be priced to sell at $100 each, cash and carry at the opening with online sales to follow. firstname.lastname@example.org for purchases.
Opal and Yellow Sky, 2.5″x3.5″ oil paint on cotton paper ❤ Erica Doll 2017
Sorry it’s been a while, missed you. I’m working on a fun piece for a group show with a theme of my favorite show ever, STAR TREK ❤ to coincide with the 50th anniversary of the show as well as the NYC Convention. See you at both. There’s some great artists included so it will be a good show! Apologies for not having the store back up yet…soon. Hope you’re having a fabulous summer, xo
after many great adventures was finally able to complete some new paintings. Hope your summer is fine! New shows in the fall my dears. Huge thank you to my amazing models! Oh and I’m on instagram now to as: ericadoll_ say hi! XOXO
‘Sweet Thalita’ oil on birch 2013
‘The Maiden’ 2013 oil on canvas board (8X10″)
I’ll refrain from the old cliches, that New Yorkers really are the nicest people despite the reputation or that fuck is just a part of the vocabulary. What’s been eating at me is that I’ve decided it’s fucking crack. The OG. Once you’re here everywhere else seems lame, and you know what? Everywhere else is not lame, you just have some sort of warped perception because you’ve been on the crack too long. Everything’s posh and glitz and even the seedy has its own appeal. I long to stand in the tumbleweeds, I want to sleep in the desert. But here I am…stuck on the crack, pounding my head in fear I’d never make it in the tumbleweeds for long. It’s been said if you can make it in New York you can make it anywhere, but if you’ve made it here can you take it anywhere else?
New York City feels small to me, Lilliputian, homey. Yet all the tiny facets of this gleaming gem make it shine so brightly. The prisms illuminate me, taunting me like a sequin-clad dancer at Studio 54 long after the music’s over. Have I become no more than a hovering moth? The limelight’s gone. I’ve basked till I burned.
Where would I go? I suppose I’d acclimate after time, though the very thought is difficult to digest. As hard as it is to imagine any other life than burning brightly until that last, long goodnight.
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for coming by. I just created this blog and hopefully won’t bore everyone to death.
MM- 2009 Acrylic on wood