I’ve been thinking deeply since the virus hit. Making crazy art and trying to finish crazy art. The madness is strong. It’s the time available to spur my minds second thoughts. Madness.
The key parts I have understood in my process are to not take the inches as miles. The small moves are never noticed until you make 100 moves. So you have time to play around with colors and patterns and shapes. The love is in the details.
I keep playing with the idea of writing an art/ color/ texture philosophy book.
And it would all come together from my mind into the book. Maybe it’ll be a lot of things together kind of like me. A mixture of cultures and ideas. A cake of makings.
The change you want in your life you often have to make. Sometimes you have to protest and sometimes you have to burn shit down. Sometimes it’s the harsh reality that no one will make a space for you. You have to create one. People will fight against you making your own space so fight them the hardest.
My age is rounding out again. It happens to me as it happens to you I guess. I’ll be 38 on March 18th. So I ask of you until that date with a humble heart to buy prints and books from me so to send me out of my 37 years with a bang. Will you do me the honor of add my art to your places that you roam?