Dopo una giornata snervante con un professore che risucchia la forza vitale degli studenti, non ho voglia di fare niente. Nemmeno di parlare di Johua Petker, che con i suoi colori mi ha tratto in salvo da una serata grigia grigia grigia. Quindi incollo la presentazione che c'è sul suo sito:
"I used to say I was born in the wrong century. The way overly dramatic kids claim to be old souls living in the present day, I was convinced I was secretly an impressionist painter, meant more for turn of the century's demi-monde opulence rather than today's world of animators, illustrators, and monster movie artists. I didn't go to art school. I don't know all the proper techniques. I learned colour theory by doing graffiti, but the story of the graffiti-artist-turned-fine-art-painter has been played out since the mid-'80s. My own life seemed to be working against me. I was convinced I should have been born in 1850.
Then I realized that I was approaching everything wrong. I live in Hollywood, this century's den of inequity and excess. I have eccentric colourful friends that rival the models of Degas and Renoir, I spend nights at Los Angeles bars that could rival those painted by Monet, and as this is 2007 I have access to neon pink and hot orange that I imagine even Van Gogh wouldn't know how to utilize. I am a contemporary painter interested in historic themes. There isn't anything wrong with that. I don't have any art school loans to pay back. I primarily paint women because I'm tremendously influenced by Klimt - and really focused on beauty."- Juxtapoz Magazine, October 2007