in the gallery:

X

i’ve often plummeted from the grace of trusting and entered the kingdom of fear...psychic containment full time job and what is that feeling word........... stilt walking out here among the goo, my shoe is pointed and my brain askew at times a stroke seems one step closer to ghostdom and i slowly become accustomed to the idea of death being ideal... my purpose being fulfilled. in those sublime moments where i melt in the canvas, time becomes nonchalant and i venture into the depths of x. i paint because i don’t want to write or speak. these critters are my emissaries.