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Hey Chris Macalino wrote this,

"He was satisfied with a B+ while everyone around us in art class opted for an A. I compared my self to this older brother of an artist, I realized that my portrait of not giving a damn did not phase him and he saw right through me, the respect being there. This man is Dan Saidman and he changed my style, gave me room to be more honest, lose the shell of anger and gain protection that saves culture. He was so cool that the barriers I created in school began to weather away, I knew the man before me was a patriot. He always had class."

We had seconds of being alone together. It was heading for Intro To Film, and I thought it would be easy watching movies and talking about them. I also knew that that was an illusion, but even seeing the movies became very serious, and I had to prepare for each day. If only they could know what those moving pictures do to me I thought and I also thought of what they did to them. Not that all frames are paintings but what if they were? That each think was jam packed with berries of golden locks. It seems that my understanding of cinema has always been a little half-baked, the professor totally took my naivete and made love the advantage. The view of film was over analyzed and then restored. Very different from drawing class were I met the man.

It was difficult for me to draw those days. I don't know why but let me try and figure it out. Maybe it was because I was basically drawing to learn more about painting. And we had a good prof, that was the thing that I had problems with. I wanted the prof to know that I really love drawing almost as much as breathing. To breathe in a series is being close and a good drawing class is intimacy. Drawing is not only fundamental to a good looking artist, it's crazy not to consider it outside of training. An artist's life without drawing is like a spring season without rain. We need drawing. We have to draw sometimes just to see if we are really any good, for some it cleanses and there are cases where this practice makes children sing!

Each room in a school has a seating arrangement if seats exist there. The drawing class arrangement depends on the lesson plan. If there is a model present then the students place themselves at a proximity relative to the proportions of the subject. If there is no model then the subject space exist in a collective that was doomed by an assignment, it is interesting to think of a subject that is right above our heads, the students sit in workplaces and this is where all theory of personal studio space comes from. We must breathe each others air and to cross the line means that those two artists are sharing.

To really share yourself to the art world means starting your own gallery and showing your friends their art. Whoever agrees to these terms makes a promise them self to be forever grateful, this attitude is more important than perfect memory. When I heard there was going to be a new gallery my productivity turned to politics but it always works out, that the power of creation was really a celebration. I made my deals into proposals and I believe that was a good decision, I was no longer burning and destroying my career into a desperate attempt at risk. All those guys in the gallery were the gambling type but considered each other winners anyway. So I kept submitting for shows and that is how we play it nice, I really began to see a change that people actually bought all the professionalism. The first thing I did was figure out the tie I was wearing and keep getting better at it.

I tried to make some money. I couldn't go the gallery for a few months but when I came back for a visit the console was gone and was replaced by more artists. Label had shows every week now, music and photography to name it. Now some of my writer friends were there too and the poetry readings began. I mean the posters were just right, the balance of a little boy, the balance my father taught me.

"It was good to see the man on stage, with a poem that was very personal. He spoke of love for a special man in his life, someone who touched and inspired him. Without that person we would have never been reading poetry that night. And Dan really could perform, it wasn't so much that it finally happened, it was more of the opening he created. Through the sensitive words he said, we became more like flowers. Some poets turn such things into people but this man, made flowers out of all us."

We all came around. People have told me that there were moments when going through all the creativity, they felt the blessed. I get that too. I look up from the page and see what is around me and then forget that I've even asked a question. There she is, so beautiful, surrounded by her adoration. He is there too, making peace with brothers. It is like this, as more shows were shown, the plan and whatever it could be was working. Our paintings were becoming better and their age would reach new levels to us, taking those pictures to keep that idea of rest or feast. Your eyes on this must be wondering, how could our place be changed and still be our place? I know when you move a seat, your view of the television changes, and usually moving back to the original place change has made your experience wish. Perhaps this gallery was the thing that says your chair changes, just as must as the view, and we can rest on this idea too. The place: looks innocent enough and part of a community, drew people closer by making it fun, and without moving and without considering the gravity of being a study, changed the people inside it to the degree that those who came saw a difference.

There is the musician, tuning his guitar. In playing it, he maintains his listeners their minds. The great one is attracted to this and knows what happens inside even when he outside there. Look at all the people with an art appreciation that defies the outland of costumes and creates a circus to see attractions. As time passed by, we were all wondering if there is a next announcement from him. Will he turn the gallery into something else? Maybe he was going to keep it the way it was changing and let it run its course, forever unlocking the safe.

When I heard Label Gallery was going to close. I was wondering about Dan and all the things he's done. I redefined my sadness into happiness. There he was, satisfied that we finally understood, we understood that it was fine art. Then it was time for Last Call, where I tried to be an ace in his sleeve, and to try was all he asked for. Even if it was a secret to a joke. The part of me that wondered if they were serious about me just about stopped wondering, and then painted - something respectful to earn.

"When he told me it was the best show he had done, part of me remembered that I already heard the words, and his voice solidified the moments together. My silence was true as I listened to that. The fear of coming inside to see what he had done was not really fear, I redefined it, and felt honour. It was his turn to smoke and my turn to go inside. The most beautiful of white space embraced every piece that hung, walls of education. It seemed to me our little gallery was not only home it was also like a chapel, something I compare the best spots to. I do confess, that what I saw was a great show and that people were going to love it. You ever go into a place and lift your heart? That is when your eyes sing, with your heart, I almost carved my initials into the wood. Whatever worries I had about regrets died, not only could I see the future and it was true we are meant for things great and more like this."

I remember going to one of our shows and the poet was there, and writing like the wind at a christening. I could have sworn there was an angel. When you look at a man that way it's not only love, it's not only gay, it's also divine. This poet has the talent of the great one skating through his ice cold calculations. There are schemes of light in his verses and beams of emergencies that take bulbs from sirens to make them seen.

A master of magnetism could seduce the lack of iron from my blood and fill it. It was another instance when I raised something of myself and saw the atmosphere. I took off the fishbowl and a terran landscape was inside, but to paint it meant to shade my view of the building. I prefer to cherish nature, and my own ideas, they're just going to wave at you. In order to see you come in gingerbread.

"We are always concerned with the speed of light but when think of its speed we obsess the furious. I don't mean to say that light is slow but it takes its time and we are forced to wait in situations. He must have seen the darkness and really looked at it. He must have seen us and had faith in knowing what we needed and believed, he could provide the light. Those windows touched me and cured what illnesses simplified my troubles to a damn permanence. Those windows that come from heaven, part of his vision. I liked what he had done with the place. I have never seen a better process than darkness to light, this is what happened across the University Of Winnipeg and he created that beauty so let it be known. In passing where it was, still feel the estoria and recorded."