shamans last rite

somewhere beneath an

alcoholic winter sky,

a new found god reels

drunk on revelation,

brow beaten sanity

hovering against the edges

of epiphany

teal saved the day and this painting looks like stained glass

Digitally remastered reality. Recycled consciousness in a hand basket. Enormously misinformed is the definition that conforms. Egocentric centripetal force. Of coarse of coarse. Immersed in the ebb ‘an flow this discourse drains me yet recharges my karmic battering ram. Writers shock can not block this inner clock. Slow motion devotion to unseen energies engraved on the frontal lobe. It doesn’t dissipate, a transfer of momentum rolls on the wheels of sudden execution. The illusion eludes understanding by appearing to be understood.

a square portal of unique wisdom

Honesty spews out like poison bursting from a rotting blister of truth. All the consequences are thoroughly mapped out in the accusations. Eviction notices have been stapled to the foreheads of common sense. We’ve already convicted ourselves with confessions that we wear boldly like halloween masks.

freezing apostrophes at the end of cold yeses  the terminal sentences drag on and on despite the dramatic punctuation! throwing opinions around like confetti,  fat lipped quandaries and black eyed objections, did i forget to mention i just really don’t care

a beetle in the best of blue worlds

mojito joe... god, idol, tropical guide and volcanic mountaineering enthusiast

my taste buds ignite

with a harmonious dance

of derelict dimension

a figment of fermentation

costly mind stutters

mental amputation

if symptoms continue

medication should be taken

a square to be added to the future

just to see if i was sane...

just to see if i was sane i sold my sanity to the devil,
thanking me he gave me my soul...

this painting is even more intense with your glasses off (20 by 24 inches)

saturation machine (photo)

from my 'When Zombies Awake' series

 

I AM NOT

A LUNATIC,

THE MOON

HAS NOTHING  

TO DO WITH IT!

along came a spider

Energy Incarnate

There’s no excuse in the center of the universe.

A passion of the electrolytes ignited by a

self guided missile of explanation that spirals into

answers that can not be explained.

it ends where it begins

hells left ventricle

Deep in the wilds of suburbia lurk little odious creatures that hold nothing but ill and dubious intent towards all of mankind. Curled fetal we hide as the wind of expression roars in declaration of its own unbridled enthusiasm. A hurried tornado blasting the bomb shelter of awareness, breaking it down to the last decimal point of sanity. Stability is a spell cast by the guru of separation. We build barriers inside to block out our instincts and give us the illusion of control. This is the covenant we created to become human.

buggin' out

purple INK

the hand of odd strikes back

INK prints available

Mountain Buddhas meet at Toltec intersections,

                                                splitting personalities with seamless precision. 

Art Attack

dancing on the blackness of confusions middle name- revisited 8 by 10

Red Vortex is displayed at the Duluth Grill

Art show success

I would like to thank everyone who came to my show for doing so and making it a great success, especially those who purchased some of my work. I would also like to thank Lisa and Chris for allowing me to show my work at their awesome bookstore. A very special thanks to Judy Kreag for making this all possible and to my Mom for buying me paint when I was a weirdo teenager.

Art Show

My art will be on display March through April at the Art of Hair on London 1427 London Rd. Sunday March 6th there will be an opening show from 4:00 to 7:00pm

an ectoplasmic matrix

The city rose up out of the mist like a warrior in disguise. This Duluth is a mistress who lies.

fractured texture 8x10

bodhisattvas laughing within sanity (photo)

The riotous mind splatters like a gunshot wound across the page. Danger! Peligro! Explanations can brainwash you. Beware! Deep seated esoteric implications endure in the costly yet softly spun web of language that brings this message to you. Come down ancient dinosaur of wisdom, enter into the cave of no intrusion.

brainstorming the walls of reason...

Beware the empty hand,

  Befriend the empty mind,

    The last supper of the soul

                     Is a feast of ego eaten whole

the ancient tablet of neolithic knowledge

A long waiting, anxiously eating away at the human race. We’ve caught up to evolution and are missing the next link.

vapid intricacy (photo)

“People of earth: smile and hone your drinking skills! Not only do you have to out think but you gotta out drink the competition in this game.” This and more mild mutterings memorizing an atmosphere of giddy confusion, general disobedience, and civil unrest. Found in an intercepted message from Io the fifth moon of Jupiter; believed to be from the mighty thunder god Zeus to poor cloven footed Pan. It ends simply “Please destroy after reading.” Not long after this momentous discovery I received an equally enigmatic memo from Jenny Kreag: Note to self; the red eagle flies at midnight. repeat. end transmission

An Autumn Mythology

Welcome to Yawn Agains Island; a paleolithic paradise where discontinued dreams go to sleep it off.

fumes rising from a vapor locked enigma 12 X 24

Just one of those days.
I don’t know if the planets lined up weird,
Or maybe the earth tipped a bit on its axis?
Strange pulling lunar tides?
Nitrous oxide leaking up from some subterranean
molten chemistry set deep in the core?
The air grainy and strained
like the third copy of cheap B grade horror flick,
static taped over static and colored in with crayons.
Heavy undertones of not so much a vibe but an anti-vibe
hang in a thick smog that breaths
gloomy misfortunes born of good intentions dipped
in the venom of enticing justifications.
Boiling history and other useless aspirations
in a cauldron of speculation.
Almost as if the ghosts and apparitions
that guard the mystery let their minds wander and slip,
their fierce gazes unfocused and askew.
The world was having a bad acting day,
fighting hard to keep up the illusion of being real.

Galvanized Paranoia

My art will be on display at Art of Hair on London 1427 London Road Duluth MN through March and April with an opening show on Sunday March 6th.