Art Hop day one was great. I’m tired but it was amazing. I met a huge group of people. The city of Takoma Park is rich with humans. 











Tag: artistas
Painter Files Podcast ep 33
My intro was composed by Cade Henley. He is this amazing Australian Tigre. I love his style and am honored he is alive and took his time to make my intro.

This is that movie I was talking about. Everything is Illuminated. Beautiful work building movie.






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Pleas
A labyrinth of parts
I grew up not in a place but at an age. There wasn’t a crazy amount of time to be just a kid. A none stop fight living in The South. Little curly haired Afro-Latino kids are meat for the grinder. Good people held my hands with tear filled eyes. I’m telling you this not as a sad story but as a warning that this shit stops this generation. Voćes, fala sério? We are here and never going away and so we are you and you us. No one but maybe a few of us chooses to be a place as children. We are luggage for our galera. We live in their shadows. Where the sun hits them we are behind them or to the side. It’s important to know we are all shadows at one time or another. Tigre this is the same life repeated. Un clavo saco otro clavo! Being divided is not the future. Teach art and you teach love. Art has this great part to it because you meet the art before the artists. All the ignorance in the world can’t make you hate the colors of the skies.
Teach art not hate Tigre.
Painter Files Podcast ep 29 Music moves me.
Painter files podcast ep 28
Painter big birdwoman
Painter files Podcast ep 27
Everything is everything
Painter Files Podcast ep 25
The artists in random order.
Dali
Frida Kahlo
Toyin Odutola
Basquait
Music by Japanese Breakfast -Road Head
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I'm glad you enjoy the podcast and if you like you are welcome to leave a tip.
$1.00
Mars the phenomenal
A million moments in one night.
Friends of friends of friends of lovers. The empty is the moment the bag hits the floor and the door closes to the night. Hard pressed to see more than the seconds of running, smiling and the little deaths. Teens on Halloween, the parties, the drugs, the troubles and the makeup on banisters. Midsize red and white finger paint on lips and clothings.
Her smirk is the open books that say everything and then nothing all at once. Her costume is the run on sentence of the mind’s eye.
Mars the phenomenal.
Little of me remembers that years smells but the touch of the cold on the tops of my arms is an unshakeable souls shiver. The parts that make all I run into mentally a cliff edge.
Long live the hearts.

























this should be my book cover.




I love her stance.