Once upon a time in North Carolina… a wonderful woman named Peggy Chaney and a quick-witted man named Bob Lovelace decided that they were right for one another and should be married. So they were. Not long after that, on September 7, 1965, they had a son, whom they named Kevin for no particular reason. That was me. Now I sit here, some forty years later, trying to find ways to convince you that the air I breathe is not being wasted.
I’m currently living in Saint Petersburg, Florida. I’m in a relationship with a wonderful woman named Victoria, who seems to think that I can do no wrong (artistically) but that I lack motivation (she has a point). Right now I’m working on various unfinished projects, but am mostly hoping to get off of my ass and finish something for a change.
Depending upon who you ask, I could be considered a writer, a poet, a musician, or an artist. If you poke around a bit, you’ll find evidence to support any of those assertions floating around on the web site, and can make up your own mind as to whether any of it holds water.
I’m currently working on some short stories and a novel that I hope to peddle to unworthy publishers in the following weeks and months, trying desperately to figure out how to make a living in these desperate times that we find ourselves in. Musically, I’m playing in several bands at the moment, am hosting an Invitation Only jam session every Wednesday in Ybor City, and am working hard to get a music festival off the ground. I’m also recording a CD which I hope to release by the summer of 2010. Art-wise, I’m working on a series of posters that I’ll be selling on eBay and in my catalog store here on the web site. More on that later.
Long story short, I ain’t dead yet. If you’ve wandered onto my web site intentionally, I hope you’ll take the time to poke around a bit and get to know me better. The general philosophy around here is that you’re visiting my home. Feel free to wander about and look over the doo-dads and gizmos, and don’t feel shy about reading some of the papers and books you may find laying around. We’re all friends here.
- Wicasta Lovelace