I paint.

These are sum paintings. Look at them. Here is a link to the album if you want full-res copies I guess. All of these were scanned using my shitty HP deskjet printerscannercopier deathmachine. Therefore, they are all much bigger than this in real life. Well, that is to say that the scanner cuts off lots of them. YAY!





These two are part of one piece.




This is a paint on a woodburned portrait of Jesus.


This a tree and a hand done in crayon.




This is glitter.


Glitter gets fucking everywhere...




Those are pieces of tin foil.








This is a paintbrush.

SWIRLS AND SPLATS!

O.O COLORS!!

I use this because it is free!

I know the FBI will see this...someday. Man, I sound like a serial killer when I say that. I'm not. I swear that the only thing I ever killed was my own idea-ology. Massacred that. Sailor's without ships aren't really much of themselves. Defined only by their hats or coats, right? I do nothing, and only nothing. I dream of doing everything. This culture of consumption is killing everything that we love. Not only that, but it is keeping us from creating anything. Our self-expression and individuality are all purchased and broadcast to us free of charge everyday. Pick it up or lose it. Pay attention if you're not seeing it. I am. I'm trying to stop it, and myself.

You'll see. Eventually.

Short and Savory.

Read this about 15 times over and over. It speaks miles to me, and I don't even know why... I also didn't like it until about a week or so after I had written it. Maybe that is important too.

In great and windy,
roaring nights
our hearts our beats
buried, steeped
swirled, lost
and
carried on
through seas of stars
lanes of trees
miles of road
and leagues
of nights like these!

Also, it is important to imagine me belting this out naked on the top of a mountain in a moses-brings-down-the-commandments fashion. (Sorry for the blaspheme...it increases emphasis! or something...)