It's different in downtown Manhattan, where the two hold court at the Nicholas Davies Gallery. Looking at Oily and Suzi it's easy to see that, like many creative types of the late 20th century, they're one terrific mongrel mix of the great decades before them. Somewhat like Gauguin in Tahiti, O'Keeffe in New Mexico, or Smithson in Utah, they seek exotic locales for inspiration. The main thing, though, is they have the balls to do their art their way. It is as if they had paid heed to the ancient
Coptic philosopher who said, "If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you." And so, this night, they've brought things forth. The well-dressed Suzi and T-shirted Oily connect with a film crowd who follow their every utterance. Someone talks
about shooting a documentary. Another begs to do their website. Their paintings are hits, with a third of them sold for as much as $4,000 a piece. The artists tell oglers that next time they'll dive without a cage. What else is there left to paint? Killer whales, they say, or wolves in the US. They'll continue to roam the world. As Oily
� � ..
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�ear �houlN be treatpd like firp. We use our fear.�----------'
says, "We've got the wanderlust, man. THE BUSH IS OUR STUDIO. WANDERLUST, MAN." "Gus D'Amato, Mike Tyson's one-time coach,
's a wocrthlng. ft'1ieeps you warm.'t can cilso burn tIie ouse'tlown.
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