#DearDiary, Friday night, Todd and I went to see A Flock Of Seagulls perform at the Golden State Theatre in downtown Monastery. Although the show was great and we were not the least bit bothered by the fact that the band is now a minimalist men in black duo and the sole original Seagull Mike Score’s hall of fame new wave hair-do is long gone, we were more than a little bit disappointed that there was no merch table to be found at the venue. We wanted and expected t-shirts. September 1982, I went to see the Go-Go’s with A Flock Of Seagulls and the Rockats in concert at the Bayfront Center in St. Petersburg, Florida. I remember buying a white with green sleeves A Flock Of Seagulls baseball jersey because I was worried what if I got a Go-Go’s t-shirt, I would look gay. #TrueConfessions by #BillMullen

#DearDiary in ALT TEXT… #AFlockOfSeagulls #GoldenStateTheatre #NewWave #NewWaveHaircut #NewWaveArt #Eighties #EightiesArt #PunkArt #GayArt #QueerArt #Markers #Sketchbook #Diary #Memoir

The Police - Synchronicity album brought to life. Follow @legassique for more music content.
#ThePolice #Synchronicity #AlbumsComeToLife #AnimatedAlbumCover #80sMusic #NewWaveArt #VinylArt #AlbumCoverAnimation #Sting #VinylCulture #ClassicRockArt #PostPunkVisuals #MusicAnimation #VisualMusic

#DearDiary, Missing Persons, part 3. When the Kickers of Ass finally dropped me off at my house after the party, Dagmar was polishing off a cigarette in the shadows of her parents’ carport. Dagmar and I spent the next couple of hours dancing to records the Kickers of Ass would have scorned and ridiculed. Thompson Twins and Altered Images. The Selecter. Nowhere Girl and Upstairs At Eric’s. Despite the fact that Dagmar had an infant brother and a crabby 10th grade sister, her parents never gave us any hassle about playing music at 3 AM in their living room. Dagmar and I had these after hours New Wave dance parties fairly regularly, but I remember then and there on that particular night coming to the conclusion that this—whatever this was—was what I wanted and needed my future to be. As opposed to something I did in the dark, separate from my so-called real life. May, 1984–on my way home after freshman year of college to Kansas where Mom and Dad had moved the previous October—I was surprised and delighted to discover Missing Persons in the flesh looking at magazines and buying snacks in a Logan Airport newsstand. Dale was head to toe leopard print MTV super fox glamour perfection. Leopard print spandex and leopard print stiletto boots. Leopard print luggage. Leopard print chiffon wrapped around her delicate silver screen made up face like a punk dream Catwoman Norma Desmond. As the rest of the band observed sternly, beautiful Dale gave me a glossy lipped, high voltage movie star smile when I nervously started up a conversation that included an autograph request. “To Dagmar,” the goddess cheerfully and conspiratorially inscribed on a postcard. Sometimes, when we’d be lying on the beige wall to wall carpet too tired to dance any longer, Dagmar would turn to me with a wicked grin and confide, “You know what, Bill? I’ve got L.A. fever.” And I knew just what she meant. Even though I had never actually been there before. #TrueConfessions by #BillMullen

#DearDiary in ALT TEXT…

#DaleBozzio #MissingPersons #NewWave #Punk #RockStar #RockArt #PunkArt #NewWaveArt #80s #Eighties #Memoir #Memories #Markers #MTV #LeopardPrint #RhymeAndReason #SurrenderYourHeart #Give #Heroes #PostcardsFromTheEdge

#DearDiary, Missing Persons, part 2. I bought the Missing Persons 45 of “Words” because I loved the picture sleeve of the band posing all glam punk future sex with a bunch of artfully arranged mannequins. The set up was hot to me. Like, I was into all of them. The guys too. Like, not more than Dale, but certainly at least almost as much as Dale. The lyric “What are words for when no one listens anymore?” was the senior quote submitted for the yearbook by Dom Macy, a hulking and big boned yet gentle and wallflowery boy who was in my fifth period study hall. Dom’s choice was found hilarious by the entirety of the student body as Dom Macy possessed a terrible stutter. There were sixty-four graduating seniors in my class, yet Dom’s social epitaph is the only yearbook quote I can remember forty-two years later. Respect. At a parents away house party right before or right after graduating, Alison confronted me in front of a large group of semi-inebriated classmates about my friend Dagmar, who Alison had never met. Only I knew Dagmar. Alison was in an unexplainable rage, pink-faced and spitting as she hissed that Dagmar was a lesbian. Alison accused Dagmar of all sorts of second hand abominations, scraps of misinformed gossip that were totally delicious and inspiring to me. Dagmar was a fucking icon. But I hated all the glassy-eyed and wet-mouthed faces staring and bobbing in solidarity at Alison’s shrill indignations. Judging. And I remember nobody coming to my defense. Not even redheaded and good-natured Alan, whose mocking and mincing little brother Timo—the awkward sourpuss behind the Casio keyboard of a dive bar Factory Records poseur wannabe haircut dance band—was the vicious cunt churning the shit rumor mill to begin with. To be continued. #TrueConfessions by #BillMullen

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#DaleBozzio #WarrenCuccurullo #TerryBozzio #MissingPersons #NewWave #Punk #RockStars #RockArt #PunkArt #NewWaveArt #80s #Eighties #MTV #Memoir #Memories #Markers #Mannequins #Words

#DearDiary, Missing Persons, part 1. Our friend Syd texted a Spotify link to a genius 2020 Missing Persons cover of “California Dreaming.” I’ve always preferred the Missing Persons version of everything, truth be told. At the very end of 1982 or maybe the very beginning of 1983, I saw Missing Persons live at the Tampa Theatre in Tampa, Florida where I lived my senior year of high school. The Kickers of Ass—my long banged and hard bargained, imports only Joy Division/Cure/Echo And The Bunnymen centric school crew—did not deem the Hollywood rockstar fabulosity of Dale Bozzio and the boys worthy of their sulky attention in the slightest, so I attended the concert with Alison Lewis, a way less edgy but beautiful-ish in a preppie norm way classmate who was soon to become the full time girlfriend of the redheaded and good-natured Alan Fitzgerald, not a Kickers of Ass but probably my best friend at the time. Alison had freckles and well-groomed Brooke Shields hair and wore a white cotton off one shoulder mini dress when she picked me up in her brown Camaro to go have dinner at Perkins’ Steak and Shake before the concert. I clearly remember being very aware throughout the entirety of the evening that this was in no way a date even though it felt like one by definition. I am not sure to this day if this was a sad thing for me or a total relief. It might or might not be interesting to include that Alison and Alan went on to college together and returned to Tampa to get married and have kids and do whatever else happens happily or not happily ever after. I was turned on to Missing Persons by my next door neighbor Dagmar X, whose taste was impeccable and whose New Wave coolness levels were off the charts. Dagmar was equal parts glamour and danger, and her teenage adventures in Los Angeles and back home on the edge were the stuff of dreams and legends. Dagmar, who went to night school, was my hero and a true grownup in my eyes, even though we were exactly the same age. Dagma…

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#DaleBozzio #MissingPersons #NewWave #Punk #RockStar #RockArt #PunkArt #NewWaveArt #80s #Eighties #Markers #Memories #Memoir #MTV #SpringSessionM

#DearDiary, I’ve been buying a lot of vintage vinyl lately—teenage obsessions I couldn’t fully explore way back when with my limited funds. It’s pretty much the only non-food shopping I do nowadays in our new life, and it’s a wildly fulfilling pastime. I bought the first three Rough Trade albums on EBay last week because I currently have a burning passion for the band—and the genius singer Carol Pope—since recently scoring an original “promo only” Cruising soundtrack at Recycled Records in Monterey. It’s crazy that you can’t find the song “Shake Down” anywhere else, even though it is so fucking major. Rough Trade is so fucking major. Carol Pope is so fucking major. Every night, I lie in bed ravenously watching old Rough Trade tv performances and concerts and interviews on YouTube and voraciously Google deep diving any and all band histories while compulsively checking my Instagram to see if Carol Pope has finally decided to be my friend. It’s like I’m a geeked out 17-year-old all over again. It’s like a high school confidential. Places I’d Rather Be. The Chimney. And I’d like to be there with Carol Pope. *For the record. Since starting this diary entry last night, I ordered via Discogs a deluxe multi-disc Waxwork reissue of the Cruising soundtrack—a release I was unaware of until this morning—that includes three additional Rough Trade songs recorded for the film that never made the final cut. I also returned to EBay today to add the fourth Rough Trade album to my collection. Five minutes ago, I purchased a bitchin’ Rough Trade t-shirt from Carol Pope’s online store. I probably am going to go back in for the coffee mug. #TrueConfessions by Bill Mullen.

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#CarolPope #RoughTrade #GayArt #QueerArt #LesbianArt #RockArt #PunkArt #NewWaveArt #AlbumCoverArt #FanArt #FashionArt #CatArt #CanadianArt #Cartoon #Markers #Sketchbook #RecordCollecting #VintageVinyl #Diary #PlacesIdRatherBe #HighSchoolConfidential

It’s so satisfying to finally have some flowers to paint; they add the perfect pop of color to these forest scenes

#pleinair #nopleinnogain #sevenbridges #southmilwaukee #milwaukeeart #lakemichigan #gouache #newwaveart #travelpainting

Here are a few still photos from my painting yesterday afternoon. This was my first time using my new Pochade box setup.

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The Balcony Remembers
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"Snow love" woww a sunny day and still cold and a lot of snow, it's so beautiful here... ☃️🥰

Oil on canvas, 40 x 50 cm, 2025.

#art #landscapes #fineart #newonbluesky #artcollectors #followme #sweden #artist #oilpainting #pleinair #pleinairartist #newwaveart #boldbrush