Carcase, 36 x 24", oil on panel.

Roughed, scarred, sunned, gnarled. his hands tell. Kirk, exclusively known as Carcase in any fishing port in the state of Alaska, survived three sinking crab boats in two years. In those same two years his wife was diagnosed with cancer, she divorced him, took his two girls to the lower 48 and re-married. And of all the pain he has had, the day he told a mother her son had drowned in the Bering, still fests and throbs: calming his usual boisterous and blustery manner for a few real and resting moments.

He frequents Duggan's, the Irish bar in Homer. He explodes through the doors, just as his Ford explodes into the dirt parking lot: loud, crooked and rusted. thin, but broad shouldered. blond. wide, ice-eyed. pupils dilated. He hasn't drank for years but his daily concoction of uppers and lowers ignite his intensity. He commits- and in every way; from his two girls to his tidy pool shots. I wanted to remember and repeat every word he said.

He shaved his usual scruff for me, "his painter." I wished he hadn't, but wondered when the last time he shaved for a woman was. White shirt unbuttoned, gold chain exposed but tarnished. no chest hair, and a killer, killer moustache. I painted him, as he drank his black coffee and nervously fumbled with his box of Marlboro's, and wondered if his broken, swollen knuckles ever got stuck in the tiny of his coffee cup ring.

Carcase always orders food to go, but always eats the food in the bar. I asked him why he didn't just order it in: "Well- You never know who is going to come in and you might have to leave."

His unbridled electricity concerns tourists in the bar, but locals know the only concern would be if the electricity sputtered. His energy threatens the ease in everyone around him, all the while aching you forward to him. just a little closer. cautious. intrigued and thirsty.

He has always been in love with the bartender at the Down East Saloon, but she has gone between Carcase and another for years. He always takes her back, eagerly. Outside of her, his confidence on the ocean is as great as his modesty with the opposite sex. But- unbeknownst to him, his potent and lusty charm slips through his softening demeanor as I plea for my "sloppy" pool shots to count.

Bright, cold, strong natural light making strong contrast. sharp, bold and direct. Mostly monochromatic: thalo blue. cobalt constructs and marine with van dyke envelops. muted orange barely reveals the bar surroundings: the bar phone and a life preserver behind him, reading "Homer, AK". Hands heavy. almost done.