That’s what he said to me, the man with thin hair and the long black coat. I joked in my head that he must be going to the matrix that day. He turned back to me and said “It’s pen or perish.” and I asked what, completely taken aback by his comment. He repeated to me, “It’s pen or perish. Never forget that.” and just kept walking in the opposite direction.
I cannot stop thinking about it, and granted its only been two hours I decided I don’t want to forget about it (maybe it’s important?) so I’ll write it down. After I walked in my direction another half a block, I was stopped by an older traveling woman with a backpack asking if I’d be willing to purchase some legal marijuana at a shop in downtown Eugene, OR. I obliged and kept thinking in my head about what the matrix man said to me.
It’s pen or perish. Is he telling me I need to keep drawing? How did he know what he said would be relevant to me?
That’s just today. This month is trying me. I’m 28. Officially. I’m sitting in my room listening to The Apples. So much for joining the famous 27 club. Here I am. I feel like there’s a lot of pressure on modern day women to get married off and procreate by now but I don’t really feel it, I just feel the ghost of a press into my mind’s flesh that should but isn’t there. People around me are flirting with me everywhere and I decided I don’t understand how to handle it despite how much biological sense it makes. It’s annoying and I wish it would stop and every part of me feels rude and problematic for feeling that way about it but the intensity has never been like this before. The pheromones I am emitting are telling a story my mouth and mind never will.
I feel confused about my place in the world and I miss making art more than anything. I find myself often driving long hours just to stop at a coastal town for a coffee and turn around headed back home. As I often do. Is this what life is supposed to feel like, you are cheating on your soul just to survive? Am I just doing this all wrong?
I managed to keep some artwork happening in the last few months since I’ve arrived in Oregon. The new scenery is helping pull something from my guts. Scribbles. Paint. Making a mess. I hope I can wake up and do this every day, one day. If I’m not just going to drop dead at an early age I might as well start living for me instead of just living to survive and benefit someone else. I keep getting tired every day and telling myself excuses and being average and its making my bones shrivel up and my eyes feel dry and my throat feel like a leather wallet. I want to be a lush forest.
Are you ready for the singularity? Do you have enough food stored away in a temperature contained enclosure?
It’s 27 minutes until clock in time and my black coffee gets colder by the minute. By every bassline strum by the velvet underground I am preparing for 8 hours of troubleshooting, typing, comparing data and answering questions.
None of my images have synced up into my google cloud since January. I don’t have anything I could update you with, there’s too many repercussions included in admitting the truth. I had fun once but it wasn’t legal so I couldn’t even tell you about it if I wanted to.
I am driving to Colorado soon, just me and my stuff and my car. Make a few stops along the way, find some humans to smile with, and see my big blues guitar strumming bad joke telling retired career criminal daddy with those blue eyes.
Underwater photographs taken from the Gulf of Mexico.
Photos Taken in June 2015.
This is our Artistic Process. I love this girl.
I’ve got some sketchbook drawings before I succumb to the weekend and make new art. If you’re following me on twitter then you will already know about my recent art baptism the other night. Anything in the gallery that you may find pleasant and want to purchase is now unavailable and I am debating creating a new gallery page for artwork that is created from this point on. (thoughts?) I was going through old sketchbooks because I want to throw out my old sketchbooks (I have a lot of them) and I need to really consolidate all of the neat things I collect. Antique jars, hello kitty stuffed animals, portfolios full of graphic designs for fancy corporations and also avant-garde paintings done with the delicacy and detail and nightmarish aesthetic could only dream of. Drawings made by me. I want to force myself to draw things that are happier. I’m hoping it’s going to inspire me to be a happier and less mean person. I don’t want to paint or draw broken people anymore. In an impassioned post recently I wrote so eloquently,
“someone on the bus this morning choked on an ice-cube and his dentures fell into his lap and I’ve been so sad and uncomfortable all day ever since. He was sitting next to me and he was so old and dejected and sad and his breath smelled like chemicals. I always have painted broken people, amputees, bruised and injured, because that’s always how I feel. Ten years later and I am still an amputee on the inside.” (11-10-14)
and I’ve made the first steps towards being happier and more pleasant. To growing my arms and legs back and being complete for once. I can grow limbs if I try hard enough. I know I can.
that I’ll be playing with for the rest of my life
“This has been so many things, though.”, I explained to my friend as he came by and conveniently took away some paintings of mine that have been giving me a weird glare and need to leave where I sleep at night. I’ve surrendered. I locked myself out of my house accidentally again, for the second time since my roommates left for California and am so glad he was there to let me back in and take my art and swiftly leave me in the comfort of my vanilla tea and boondocks reruns on netflix. I hardly ever watch tv anymore. I was explaining the process on this painting, but I didn’t get as in depth as I could have. This is a really big canvas compared to most of my work. The canvas itself was a birthday gift from a tall, handsome man with anger issues and an interesting last name. He’s got entitlement problems just like every other guy I decide I don’t want to be with. Originally, it was a woman, naked, bent over, hardly visible/audible and tossed in the rain. I painted her over and over and over again, deciding it best fit to just never let her be complete in that way I usually do not let things finish. My art and emotions dance with each other pretty regularly so it was an easy choice to make. I decided would paint and keep painting forever, taking photos along the way of every iteration of a painting that it exists in. So far she has erupted into a forest of color and boredom and mythology. Who knows where next my imagination decides to travel to but you trust me it will end up here along with the layers and layers of everything I have ever felt.
A few weeks later and a few more things later and here I am again, loudly playing my weird music and writhing with the comfort of hot soup resting in the pit of my belly. The situation with my friend Ed who lost his car is better if not fixed entirely! His car has been fixed, the nose of the vehicle having been completely replaced so his black car has an albino nose that glitters in the sunlight- and he has gotten himself not just one job but two! Achievement unlocked: stability. For now we are eating fish and chicken every night and being grateful for each other. I made a mistake in my own personal mental homeostasis has been compromised by actual love and I just keep kissing dogs and boys and painting. I received an email the assistant curator of ICA Publishing to submit my artwork to be published in the most recent publication that they do and I am happy and excited about that opportunity! Likewise, a very good friend of mine living in Orlando may have found me a perfect live-in position which would remove e from New Port Richey for a few months anyways , so I can become a recluse and convince myself love is very very bad for me again. I’m excited and nervous. On an entirely different note, my fathers music career is finally budding and I am going to be making a series of art work to promote his music and the legalization of marijuana! Its something everyone in my entire family has been passionate about for years and its about time I committed some of my own art to promote that cause. For the past few days I have been thinking about the concept of set theory and tinkering in thoughts of numbers on my own suggestion for the first time in years and I enjoy it. I am trying to use that side of my brain more. Trying to train myself into mental equality/ morphing. I am still making art every day. I post more or less everything on my instagram. I am being happy. I am going to transition so smoothly into working full time again and live alone and get a kitten and maybe a bigger harddrive and university classes again like a perfectly normal, well adjusted and goal oriented twenty-something that I should be by now. au voir.