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Painter files-buds of creativity story
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Always making
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woke up drowning…
The salt in my lungs, I am left wanting. It is the paint peeling I need to fix on my washroom. It is the in the pink sound of an ice cub being razor shaved. Can’t get it out of all the parts and pieces of my mind.
When a true wave hits you in the face and flicks you at the beach you’re kind of done with anything ever stopping you from your life goals. You stand up, wipe your eyes and swim around the big wave to reach what you need or go over or under.
I see now I need to treat fear made by social media the same way. I need to get stronger about swimming past it. I’m not perceptive to the algorithms and to be honest I want the sales from it not to be famous for them for the speck starlight they give you. I get older and remember Myspace fondly but I recall it didn’t equal out to a hill of beans when it died.
Gotta be the change.
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Jackie has this really fun smile. She smiles with her eyes first and then her mouth. I’m so proud to paint her.
I’m also working on V Day cards.
https://society6.com/product/just-the-2-of-us1052259_cards?sku=s6-8566129p22a16v71

got no time to be your lifeguard.
Drowning used to be my game in the dark nights. The Silver Fish danced to the blindspots only to kiss a finger as I slept on an old futton. The bed was too good for a soul with stains like mine. Sad daddies of children with no birthdays. I see the baby hairs in the corners of my eyes as I sit in empty rooms dreaming of clicks and emails. I can’t be a lifeguard, I’ve been swimming me entire life in lakes made of Milo. West India of the Western world calls out to me.
“B da truff,” is the voice of the wind. I found her name in the sleep at the edge of my inner eyes. She is hard but soft, kind but stern and alive and yet never born.
Madness in the paint drops.
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The artists in random order.
Dali
Frida Kahlo
Toyin Odutola
Basquait
Music by Japanese Breakfast -Road Head
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