offering / acrylic, oil / canvas / 12 x 15 inches

fragile
as snow
as the morning light
on eyes
as waking in the night with
bad dreams
as feeling the touch of fire
broken
like when we die
and gifted
by the curse of caring
for life.

party girl 1 / pastel, pencil, sharpie, pen / paper / 12 x 18 inches

party girl 2 / pastel, pencil, sharpie, pen / paper / 12 x 18 inches

untitled / oil, acrylic / canvas / 13 x 16 inches

vs. / charcoal, oil stick, pastel, acrylic, tape, turpenoid / paper / 58.5 x 36 inches

come after me / oil / canvas / 12 x 12 inches

there was this man who still thought of himself as a little kid in his mind but his mind was sharp and full of knowledge so that in front of anyone else he was an old man full of wits but he still saw himself as twelve years old and liked to drink chocolate milk with whiskey and to get drunk and play the piano at night so soft so no one would hear him play. he watched television very low with it almost muted and the colors and moving images of cartoons made him still, still enough that he would stop shaking so he could smoke cigarettes without ashing too early and the cigarette would pile ash at the tip until it was a shaky edifice of gray soft ash. outside the poplar trees moved shakingly in the wind like when he watched a movie too long; he would sit on the driveway and think about how he wanted love to obliterate him but it never came and nothing was ever stronger than he was and nothing was fast enough either, not that he cared for speed, but it counted for a lot when he thought quicker than someone else. he would satisfy for someone slower but just as intelligent but it didnt matter because it never came. there was a bigger world but that didn't matter either because it was so large that it could only be taken as what was in front of him and he knew that to be one of the great truths he had solved so there was only the trees in the wind, the night, and everything else that rushed toward him like an inescapable wave. there was not enough time for life because he knew you could take something and make it last forever just stretching it to its finest point because he believed in a sort of infinity.

at last the call came and he could sort himself out. he pried open the bottle and took long deep swigs of the delicious whiskey, its rough and then burning flavor which would mellow out after a minute to a soft glow of calm and peace and smile. he favored it over everything else but that favor changed each day as if the ability for variety in his own destruction gave it all the colors a painter has to choose from; and then don't forget that it could be mixed with anything so that it took on various depths and shapes. he knew there was something bad about it but didn't care because it truly was only bad if you cared about the bad things that it did, but if you were able to think it all out to what was truly going on around you it wasn't a bad thing just a very nice thing like having a woman or very close friends or a job that paid well and killed you worse than the liquor but bought you time which was the only thing worth buying if you wanted to know as much as possible about everything. the goal was to get so much information that at the cusp of this gathering there would be some awesome epiphany about what to do and how to go about with everything in the future. it required a lot of interaction with both the real and unreal and it also required a lot of building and taking down and looking at everything from every possible angle.

he looked himself over in the mirror while arranging his pockets and his mind for the coming rush of interaction and for the quiet to quickly spill into an array of rides that took him up and down, upside down, and around and through; he was prepared and knew only that it would soon be better than the oncoming deeper darkness of the beginning of morning, which was only good if you had spent yourself amongst people that you loved or were making to have them love you which wasnt impossible because he was very talented with people and knew how to move them. he called out to himself in the mirror and smiled testing the smile out working it amongst his lips and bones and his nose and eyes and forehead. he ran his fingers through his hair, he knew that smiling was a powerful tool and it conveyed a lot of what he felt for people much like his hands would when he was drunk enough to give them life of their own away of his mind.

i keep meaning to write this about loss, and understanding loss, and my personality having experienced a great loss, and it happening at a time when there is an innocence to yourself so that when something profound happens to you, you experience it in this way, like this falling feeling and then it stops and there is a pit around you and it has nothing in it. my mind looks at the feeling as if it were remote and dark but its right there in your heart. and that feeling becomes an unavoidable thing, there is no leaving it and if it was gone it would reshape the entirety of your self. a new thing. my chest hurts a little thinking about this sense. sometimes i won't look at a person because thats how little i want to be incorporated with them because i know that deep loss. like its a privilege to truly know a person in an honest way and it is because you are both taking a little bit of each other and that person can leave at any minute and be gone forever. i like when people honestly talk about the reasons for why they do things because it allows one the opportunity to witness life in a varied way.

will be going to dana point later this week once i have some work squared away. open party time for whoever wants.

because knowing alone / acrylic, oil, collage / paper / 36 x 32.5 inches

oasis / oil / canvas / 13 x 10.5 inches

dear

i had this dream and i know you hate it when i start talking to you about my dreams but this one was important because it was about my birthday, and in it a woman who i find very attractive sat me down at a table and i was bleeding a little from one arm because i had a dual with bob saget over a letter i wrote where the punchline was in the beginning and it said dear wife who i love, i dont fuck you the way i fuck my whores; what i do isnt what we do. he got mad and his wife left him by making the house fly away so he fought me with swords and he lost. but the woman told me that what i was doing was being consumed by something that shouldnt be consuming me. now in the dream it wasn't so vague and it was actually rather clear that she meant i should be looking towards new horizons.

the grass outside has taken hold durning the waning month of august as i read somewhere that watering it once a week for an extended period of time saturates the roots with water and allows them to grow deeper and healthier. the last time i smiled was outside of the hamburger stand making jokes with a close friend and we looked off to the sky to witness the weather.

usually the need for not being as clear as possible with words, using words to drape themselves over the truth in a way that makes the truth possible but difficult, which means there are enough clues to start asking questions but its hard to infer because it could be more than one thing and those things could be all important so one doesnt want to infer but is spurred to ask more questions; but what i was getting at is that i wish i stopped caring so much about controlling the influence i can have over people and decided to stop draping words over what is really going on so that it simply exists. sometimes i do it when it is very deep and personal and is only an inward condition, then there will be a moment where it will all be laid bare and the meaning is clear.

the next part is deeply personal. i have almost become fully acclimated with my profession because now i have less pangs about doing and become more and more clear as to the process of my mind and how it likes to create. however that doesnt mean i am any better off in my mind about what i am doing. ive got these manilla folders full of white paper written on front to back about how to go about thinking and sorting thoughts and approaching people and getting what you want and using power and influence (charm) to achieve those things, what morals are, how morals can be structured, they talk about making decisions, and continue to everything else i think anyway; its been a long time since i looked at any of that but thats how i would spend a lot of my time in classes just waiting until the time was up and i moved on to the next class and more writing.

outside it must be getting hot and the dog will be wanting in. ill have to adjust the air conditioner so that it doesnt blow as much during the day; since its just me and 75 degrees is a strain on the energy consumption. i think our bill last month was 300 dollars with two people living in a house. when i am here in a place so comfortable i have a hard time enjoying the unknown as that can be a wonderful and worthwhile part of life. the idea that the next day is unknown and what it can bring could be anything is worth more than gold. maybe thats the crutch with money is that it can bring about routine so easy, however it can be said that money can help foster the unknown. i just like those times when everything is new and exciting and all the world is there. here, now, i feel more like i am waiting than as if i am living. and that is no way to live.

sincerely

jungle artifact / oil / canvas / 18 x 24 inches

so Josh and I are going to NYC to attend the CMJ festival this year Oct. 20-24 and I'll be leaving the 19th and coming back the 26th. Roundtrip tickets are super cheap we paid 239 total, direct flight. I also just picked up a What.cd account and will be trying to build my goodwill with them to get some invites. more work coming soon.

my gallery is closing. friday is the last reception and ill go get my art on saturday.

i dont know what to tell myself to make anything better. i like going to the movies alone. its always a spur of the moment thing. something will shake me or just mess me up in my head and i need a way to escape so i check the listings on fandango real quick and pick something i want to see. i bring some whiskey with me in a flask and buy a matinee ticket. i usually always try and go to the suncoast because its older than most of the places up in summerlin and it lets me avoid the red rock casino which sucks and is always packed and full of teenagers from palo verde and i just hate the vibes there. the suncoast is old and smelly and low key and the only people inside are all the retirees from sun city. so i get my ticket, walk awkwardly up to the ticket taker cause there is a bulge in my pants from the hidden flask. the guy is either disabled or mentally handicap and once he tears my stub i walk through. if i go to the left when i enter the actual theater room i go to the right because i think most people will stick to the left since they were conditioned in the beginning to go to the left and then vice versa if i am going to the right. i sit down far up high where no one is usually sitting and i watch the movie. since i am alone i am never thinking about anyone else or worrying about what they might be thinking or thinking about what i might have to do or considering anything outside of myself because i dont have to since no one is there and then its just media coma and a kind of static bliss watching the screen and the movies are usually pretty good and i sip a little here and there and when its over i think for a minute, duck out, walk quick to my car, drive the couple of minutes back to my house since the suncoast is right down the street and i usually get to painting. sets me pretty okay most of the time.

ward / acrylic, oil / canvas / 24 x 36 inches

So Perry has done Restaurant Week before here in Vegas and he said it was awesome, anyway its coming up again and the website below has the menus and prices for all the places that are doing it. Seems pretty legit. It goes August 31 - September 6

Link

watering / acrylic / canvas diptych / 19 x 20 inches each panel

everything has been replaced by a blank numbness inside. i think its what not caring means. staring out on the veranda watching the heat roll, nothing inside of me stirs as if my feelings have decided to hibernate. there are no words for me to travel with in my mind and there is a lackadaisical sense of motion about going anywhere with anything. the desk sits with dust, the clocks all rest at hours i find terrifying or surprising. hearing the sound of wind is just as pleasurable as a movie or a beer. the just of the universe, its chaos, my gain seems dumb as all gain-and i ask myself why i feel like this and i dont care to decide that either. talking to myself eventuates into a series of small murmurs, drones, half mutters and then back to silence and staring at the world. pleasure from looking is something i like very much.