Mick Was NOT Amused.

Mick Fleetwood lives across the street from me. No. Really. He does. He moved into a giant, Fleetwoody mansion across the street from the guest house where I live with my wife. Living in LA, you get used to bumping into celebrities around town, but this one has fascinated me like no other.

Last weekend, I woke to the sound of music. The poolside-speaker variety. I got up and looked out the window, and swore I saw (The) Mick Fleetwood traipse through the bushes. Like Sasquatch, but with a better resume. I watched a little longer before I figured out the music mystery. He was listening to Fleetwood Mac - and not the deep cuts, either. The Hits. I could barely do anything else with my day.

I can't quite put a finger on what it is about him, but the incredible music and longevity is a good place to start. The music he's made has transcended the era they were made in. They're not just oldies, but time-tested goodies, too. Beyond the music there is all the drama. All the different lineups and lovers and feuds. He's a pillar (literally and figuratively) of music history and one can't help but surmise that the man has seen it all. 

So that's where my new art series was born. A place to focus my surprise obsession and awe. A challenge to my skills as an artist (I've never produced a series of bi-weekly material) and a testament to the man and the myth that is my neighbor, Mick Fleetwood.