Plane got into NY yeserday morning. I rented a car and drove over the Verrazano Narrows Bridge to Long Island. Beautiful bridge, though I prefer the George Washington. Bypassed Coney Island and JFK to settle in Long Beach, in some coffee shop, where I worked on the laptop for several hours while a poster of me gazed down from near the counter. Strange to see.

Later I jogged a couple of miles on the boardwalk, just to dig the smell of sea and watch the ships, thinking of all the thousands of ships that have passed through those same lanes over time. Odd how I’ve always felt I’ve been out there before.

My signing started at 8:00. Wonderful crowd. Great questions. Pretty good coffee too. I swore to myself I’d finish by 9:30, but they kept me until 10:30. Oh well. Good company. I stayed out on the island, then came into Manhattan this morning to meet with an architect at Brennan Beer Gorman about a project. She loved my suggestions. Now I’m free until my signing tonight at the Art Students League. Think I’ll head for the Met, then the Park, then wherever…

Took my 15-year-old and several of his buddies camping last night, including a French exchange student. Well I’m not sure if you could call this camping. A friend of mine, Stive, owns 20 acres on the bluffs above the Kaw River. Has a couple of rustic cabins, a jacuzzi, an archery range, a skeet range, and a dirt bike. Nothing fancy, heated by wood-burning stoves, but it’s not like we pitch tents or anything. We do however hike for miles along the bluffs, flushing wild turkey and quail and the occasional deer. Since it was a full moon–an autumn moon–the night was magical. Huge bonfire, roasting dogs and smores, then my inevitable challenge to the punks to leap the fire–which was 10 feet wide. I normally do this when wet, in my underwear, after emerging from the jacuzzi. They fairly well matched my maniacism, including the French kid.

Shot some skeet. I detest sidearms and rifles, but will shoot a shotgun, since bird-hunting and skeet were big things for my father; we always did it together. So Stive and I dusted some clay pigeons; the boys worked on their aim. But when they all asked to have target practice with Stive’s revolver, I stood to one side. Really do hate guns. French kid absolutely loved it though. Funny how the American thing with guns can infect anyone. I teased him about it.

Later I took them all in to Lawrence, where we walked the KU campus together, and I got them up on the roof of one of the old buildings, and we could see the whole valley with the lights of other towns in the distance, and I told them stories of my years at college: the time I almost managed to steal the steam whistle, the football games in South Park, the time a buddy and I hopped a freight. Oh yes, we also discussed higher education, the necessity of it for them, and how my favorite joint on campus was Watson Library. Afterward we went down to Mass Street for lattes, and so they could girl-watch. They loved it. Much later we went back to the cabins, and a final soak in the jacuzzi. To bed at 2:00. A very good night.

Leave for NY tomorrow morning.

Got an interesting call yesterday. One of the largest publishers in NY, if not the world, wants to see the manuscript of the new book, Everybody’s Game. It was the CEO’s assistant who called. Nice woman. We chatted about things NY while I told her that the book would be there next week, and that I wouldn’t commit to any other publishers or agents (several have asked for it now) until after they read it. Who’s the publisher? I’d feel like a fool mentioning the name unless it clicks. Suffice to say that a skyscraper in Midtown bears their name.

And if that wasn’t enough, I met with an exec yesterday morning about being hired as an art consultant for her firm’s new skyscraper. No I don’t want to name these people either, not yet, but the building is huge, as is the firm. In fact they do very amusing Super Bowl commercials each year. Pleasant woman, the exec. It was our second meeting. We get on well. I guess I’ll see what comes of it later.

Last night was Martini Night for the Young Friends of the Nelson. What does this mean? Well a couple of hundred art lovers show up on the block, listen to me give some high-falutin talk on our latest sculpture project, then disperse to sample martinis in the various shops. Each shop has a bartender from one of the high-falutin restaurants, and the bartenders compete to see who will make the most popular martini. Ours was something out of vodka, passion fruit, and mango. I believe our bartender won.

The whole gig raises money for the museum, and some of the shops and restaurants gain new clients. The gallery? Well we didn’t sell any art, but the martinis were pretty good. Oh yeah. It rained. So instead of the 300 we had last year, there only about 75. Good bash anyway.

Heard this morning that I’m supposed to be interviewed next week on public radio in NY. I think this station’s at Fordham. I’ll learn more when I get my itinerary. Studio interview, I think for 30 minutes. Much prefer studio over phone interviews. Because the atmosphere’s better? Nah, I just like wearing the headset and playing with that cough button.

Met this morning with the mayor of Olathe. New project. Cover it later, after it’s matured a bit.

Met with a couple of very bright architects yesterday from HOK. I mentioned the firm in July: large, influential, build stadiums all over the world. They’ve designed the proposed NASCAR Hall of Fame, which if it’s built, will go in the vicinity of Matt Kirby’s enormous–and I think brilliant–sculpture for the track (freaking thing’s going to be 50′ high). I requested the meeting because I felt it was important to get the architects involved. They loved the piece, but then everyone seems to. I’ll post an image later.

That’s all cool, but what I dig most about this project is how I’ve structured it so that inner-city teenagers–especially budding artists–can participate, and learn from my artists and me. THAT is really what it’s all about. Can’t wait to meet the kids. It should all start in the fall.

A very sophisticated client of mine, Patricia Stewart, runs a very unusual veterinary clinic. I think most vets are kind and compassionate, but somehow she seems to take it to another level. Her staff, and their new joint, reflect this.

So Patricia, being the sort of woman she is, decided she wants a couple of Allan Chow paintings for the lobby. Needless to say, one will involve a cat, another a dog. A human will be in each as well, but only in the background. Since the works will be done with a palette knife, they’ll be understated and lacking in sentimentality. They’ll be large too: 30 x 40 each. She asked if she could use them on cards and such. Since she’s such a great chick, we said Sure.

Did an interview with Long Island Life last week. Very nice woman. Multitude of questions. Story comes out I think this Sunday, just before I get to NY. Should be fun. Still remember my first trip there, going by motorcycle via Key West in 1979. Long ride, but a beautiful one. Stayed with one of my sisters in Manhattan.

Went to Sag Harbor out on The Island one weekend, not far from where Pollock once lived. Great weekend, although being the late 70s, everyone was doing coke. Depressing to watch. Kept my distance. Best memory from those three days? Cliff-diving with some loud-mouthed New Yorker who kept challenging me to jump from a 40-footer. I dove it instead. That quieted him. He offered me a beer after.

Okay, so my older son’s 17, plays bass and drums like a master, left the Goth stuff behind a few years ago after toying with that dark way, which I let him toy with briefly, knowing I couldn’t deny him that and also knowing I couldn’t let him go too deeply into it, which he didn’t, being at heart a kid of light, but he did briefly listen to bands like Slipknot, (how do these people get recording contracts?) mainly for purposes of cool, but finally rejected it all to listen to bands like Our Lady Peace, U2 and Yes, and to take his music to a higher level. He did.

But a band he used to play with, who try to sound like Slipknot, still ask him to practice with them. Problem is he hates the music now: the screaming, the dark mood, the monotonous guitar work. They played a couple of songs for me. Nice boys, despite the black clothes, nail polish, and dark vibe. I’ve always liked them. One reason I sat in on practice was to provide them with a contrast, and let them know that I cared for each of them. The other was to silently send the message that if anyone even considers getting my kid high, I will kick f—ing ass. They understood me on both points. Anyway my son’s trying to tell this band he’s through. I’m sure he will eventually.

Does he know that my love and vigilance has been helping to guide him through these decisions? On some level. Does he appreciate that? Sure, just not as much now as he will later.

Well it was a packed opening, with about 150 people passing through. The wine was just average (I never buy expensive stuff), but the crowd was great. Art students, browsers, collectors. Also a bunch of salsa dancers, since Allan’s a salsa-dancing fool. His folks even flew in from Hong Kong, and were quietly proud of the whole event.

The upshot? The wine’s all gone, and in exchange we sold 12 paintings. Expect to sell more next week. Allan’s pleased. So am I. It’s nice when you work hard to structure an artist’s career, and then it flies. Doesn’t happen every time, but I’ll go for a .300 batting average.