Making has this quality to it that is truly unmatched. Something about creating with your hands that just grabs hold of time and melt the ends of existence. You meld with the creativity.
Love is the paint and your eyes only see the colors, future ,past and present.
These faces remind me of a promo for monsters. I love the idea of a old style monster movie with two people as the main characters from now. It just feels more alive for them to be aware how silly it all is. To ask “why is the monster in black and white?” Maybe I should write something and illustrate it. Just a page or two?
So much making. All this snow and hot tea….and whiskey in coffee cups.
These brushes live in magical imaginary cannons waiting to attack canvases with the violence of creativity. The best art I have ever made I felt like I was in a fight afterward. My neck hurt and my shoulders hurt and my gums bleed. It took me weeks to feel like I hadn’t been in the hardest fight of my life. I’m addicted to that feeling now. I really find that drug these days. I have to go bigger and crazier to get that high. it is my addiction.
Snow days are kind of perfect to put my body in a grinder of creativity. I have hours to make lines perfect and curve my shoulders in flawless hooks with my ink covered hands holding worn out brushes. I dream of my art table in the middle of a huge room surrounded by nothing so I can twist and move cross a huge heavyweight paper endlessly.
This art show is coming soon in April and I have so much to make and so little time. It will be great and hopefully painful.
I am but a man with a brush. I dream and sleep. I’m good at both if I may brag? A lot of that art comes from dreaming. The lucidity of waking up and running to a pen and paper is my shining achievement.
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
P.s.
Please go check out and support my Patreon. Lots of great gifts and prizes to be had and every little bit helps.