Stories of painter madness.
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motion
In a fog.
Who and what am I running toward with my art now? I don’t know if I’m going to be infamous museums but I have hope. I had this fear by talking about my nomination I was jinking myself. But I don’t know I believe in jinking.
Makes me what to fight the sky.
Gotta work harder and past even remembering any of it. Because the art is more improtant then the rest stops.
madness
inktober
I want to use this time I have on earth to change bits of us inside our heads. We have this idea of what the human form is and what we should be a shamed of and I want to end that. We are all living beautiful human beings. There are so many beautiful human forms and this is just one of them. The examples are endless.
My name
Into the sun
into the wilds
The time to let all things dry and bond.
Those leaves are the rest of time in a rapper. A moment of space enclosed with a life print, laying in the sun to vanish. The darkness creeps in hours before my mind can grasp it. We are the epicentre. Paint is the epicentre. Ink is the epicentre.
madness
Johnny
The best people are the ones you never feel like you get enough time with.
cheers to you brother. I see you on the other side one day again.
rest in peace brother.
“There’s a ruby in my forearm” Milo
“If you are not a myth, who’s reality are you?” James Baldwin
