Wed the sleep

I don’t know sometimes, how I found my path. It was always mine, I guess. No one gave it to me. I didn’t take it and yet it was maybe my birthright? That word feels weird to me. I have never felt that anything was really mine until my 30’s. The world is the owner and we are but mere space holders in service to it.IMG_5539


This art book will be grand. I will make and grow deep in the pages and I want each every one of you to feel the strokes and trace the lines with your eyes. I do this in service to you and my self because we live these hard lives for something warm on the inside.

Painter Files Podcast ep 21

His name was/is Glenn Arthur.

Busy making

I try to practice my craft everyday.

Painter Files Podcast ep 18

IMG_3985.jpg“The Universe giving birth” painting.

In this podcast: my fun painter madness comes to a lovely and polite podcast (I hope), our art adventures, strange but helpful books, trying to be a better person to my self, feeling proud and hopeful. Plus: all the stuff I’ve been doing lately…like painting and self-help work. 


Things I’m dig
∆ Comics
∆ Yoga in the morning or tea
∆ Frannerd videos
∆ Started to listen to again Celia Cruz
∆ Thinking about all the great advice I have been given this week

On my reading/watch list:
Side Hustle (from idea to income in 27 days)
Little Boxes on Netflix


scratchy desk instax

There is something hard about reading a book. It pulls me into this world and I see the perspective of the characters. I become fully immersed and in that moment I am me.

It never really mattered how the character is different from me I am them. I feel the erg to paint from the heart of the person. Their fears and lusts. I learned a long time ago that was the type of reader I am and so I make it a point to only read about painters. I’m selfish that way I think. I want to learn how fictional versions of me from far away are and see the world and die. It’s morbid and yet perfect for me. In my life, I think I used to fantasize about how I would die one day and then how my art would be this time line in an art history book or see homes I would never be a loud in personally.

I try to not let the race of a character limit me reading them in. I know that sounds strange but I have never read a character who is West Indian/ Brazilian who grew up in America. Most all characters are white painters. They are dying of AIDS and are mostly homeless or very rich but never Black or Brown. Even the side characters aren’t Black or Brown of the ones I have read. I think when I was younger that hurt me a little because I didn’t understand how if I followed their examples I wasn’t ending up in galleries like they did. I thought I was cursed.

I remember trying to write a few little books in my twenties but turning them into comics because I could make the words tangible with images and that meant more to me. I did find a few books at age 32 but they were translated from Portuguese or Spanish.

The comic I’m working on now has a life of its own. A universe of its own. I want to feel the images in my eyes. Feel the tears well up in my soul as I make them because any less is not food enough for my soul.

My hope is that I give as much as I take in in life. That I will make as much as I am able to consume. So much feels like it is force feed into our ears and ears. All the remakes and mindless shows don’t feel like they are here to take us on journeys. I remember being a kid and watching these film and forgetting it was a film for an hour. The magic is lost to me most of them time now. I don’t know if I am more aware or that the writing has gotten worse this go around. I do run across golden moments in watching some times. I guess I’m just looking for a message in the art form or even to feel like it is an art form.