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.