Greg Davis and Keith Whitman ( Hrvatski) Live Set, also Soft Pink Truth track debut

Max's show had cost him almost $2,300 to fabricate. He made only one meager sale that was only going to net him a mere $375.00 after Matthew's cut, which was another thing, but he knew thinking about his gallery would just lead to a slippery slope of depression, anger, self-doubt, and more depression. Each time after he de-installed a show he invariably asked himself "why do I do it?"

He knocked around his loft for a bit, his usual late afternoon routine. His TV sat on a table made out of two red milk crates and a slab or left-over resin from a piece he had made in school, and was set out in the open of his large open studio. The floors were unfinished concrete ending in exposed brick and raw plasterboard walls, all designed and executed by the artist himself. When he moved in to his place two years ago it was just a square room, window in one side, a small sink and toilet on the other. He knew practically nothing about electrical or plumbing work, but had helped his father build on a garage when he was in college. He told his landlord that he would take it with a smile. Scooby Doo was on TV and as much as the show brought back memories and familiar dialogue, he hated it just as equally. He wondered if Scooby, Shaggy and the gang didn't remind him a little too much of his childhood, a mostly happy and suburban time which he considered a hazy fog of skateboards, rap music and cartoons.

As he listened to the simplistic dialogue he began to consider the implications of the 60's counter culture on 70's Children's programming. All of the shows he remembered ("Far out Space Nuts", "H.R. Puffinstuff", "Dune Buggy", "Sigmon the Sea Monster", "Hong-Kong Phooey", "The Super-Friends", "Spiderman" (the carton), and especially educational programs like "the Great Space Coaster" and "Electric Company" all seemed twisted and perverted by the "free" aesthetic of the "free love" generation. He remembered the ink splotch back grounds, the hip lingo, the bellbottoms, the non-linear stories, and ultimately the more fantastic elements of talking animals, surreal kidnapping plots, and aliens with honking horns. It added up to a sum of reality shaking proportions in the eager minds of his peers. Craig and Billie, Dorothy, John, Bill, Lura at teh gallery, and countless others had all been involved in numerous conversations about the subject, all voluntarily sharing memories and jokes coexistent in their minds.

Then suddenly he thought about his own work and foresaw the impending malaise on the horizon. For every proposed doubt about his work he answered with a heartfelt twinge of pride and self-worth. He searched the glass face of the TV for an answer. He knew it was stupid to even pose such a question. Luckily he understood his symptoms, and understood his laziness would subside in a few days because a new idea would stumble into his mind.