Snips and snaps from 30 years of art hoo-ha, unrelated to His Room as He Left It, in no particular order
Lots of images! May take awhile to load. Thank you.
The Partial June 2015
Goatheads June 2015 Tribulus terrestris
Don't Drive Drunk, Kooky Zebra 2005, 2015
Foxes & Rabbits, and one in which I Am The Fox This Time April-July 2015
Organic Machine-Sad Horse-Snow Truck-Rabbit Teeth-HER LIFE WAS SAVED BY ROCK N ROLL February 2015
Rabbit Storm April 2015
I painted these one night while thinking about the many sad shits shat in fear and horror in war or privation. they're rather melodramatic, but it felt good to do them.
Red Weights painted clay 2007
This is a sketch from 2002. I was going to make a bevy of tiny glass rabbits, held aloft by silver wire, seemingly hurtling through space like a comet.
"Feel So Sad" 24 April 2014
103 South Street February 2014
BIALY OSTROGOTH JACKASS
A few years ago I was on some medications which, especially when combined, tended to have the side effect of Touretteism in a pre-disposed patient. I was a pre-disposed patient, and for over a year I had severe full-body tics, twitching, yelling and a general sense of alarm. The tics and vocalizations were a bit like sneezes, in that it's easiest to just let them explode, but if you try very very very hard with all your might you can suppress them. It was exhausting either way. Luckily for me, I didn’t experience much coprolalia. And when I did, it was usually only basic cuss words, which I mostly managed to keep inside my house, or far away from people.
One nice thing which came out of it was the ridiculous poetry. Here is a list which covers about six days in 2010. I had hundreds of words and phrases popping up, all day, every day, for months. These words were crowding my head, I had to say or yell them out loud, and I couldn't get much else done. This whole list is in exact order of how the words came in the six days, but I've strung some together and grouped them so they read a bit more interestingly.
BIALY OSTROGOTH JACKASS
I've got problems
Anne Boleyn_could be_onions_el gato
Africa_the cuticle_let it slip your mind
In the president's ribs
tell them not to chapel_I'm just gonna hang it in
Saddam Hussein_feeling better?
kittens_does a dog have ears?
Waldenhead_Thurston Moore_limited crocus
It has none of that at all
I haven't heard your sex sign
is it an empty channel
bonus_condensation_I don't blame you_springwalker
that smell makes me sick
I don't know how to make dinner
prisoner_don't get me wrong_delight
last time I was here_bastard_common feed
stand still_I needed it
totally fraud_thicker than rain_give me a nine
pregnant_garrulous_did you know Conrad was just fired?
mizzenmast_Benjamin Franklin_cold coat_dead bears
mezzanine_I wanna free all the puppies
whether you like it or not
get out of it
betel nut_my co-pilot
I think it was cruel yesterday
bay march_crap_hot dog!!
hussy_West Street_chili dog
Westerner_Penobscot_let it go, let it go
using a moth
using a moth that won't expire
George is safe_Ralston_the big push
a lion's share
nine thirty nine thirty nine thirty
You made good work out of that
Nana_bulldog_what are the chances
signal_cygnet_you sure shook 'em
train blood_Orfati_I was naked
palliative_first in the room
I know it
my numbs are all clear
the roots don't call
urine_you'll get them back_Saucerful of Secrets
peanuts_Van Der Graf generator_dot com_do you have time to go?
when do you get back?
on a finer afternoon
am I able to infer from that...
the seniors ate it_thin as pencils
Barclay_high-ranking officials_Werner Herzog
friends with the guy
playing in the way
nine in the morning
did it snow?
the bishop's face_helix_accessory
and it contains
I'm so soaked
toy with it_skunk
morals_cold corner_totally entertained
in a reverie_maleficent_coin cost
read the rabbits
in the bright sunlight
half of what you need
my whole horn
the blonde_Adam_to die for
I don't wanna carry my candy
he's a real kick
I know that Christopher isn't one to argue
that sums up_trifecta_Cumberland
dumb Jew_ripped off_keep_Barnum is free
Ichabod Crane_amethyst_Kirkland Café
multiple_The Blue Meanies_Cassidy_overhaul
I don't need it any more
Persa_in the building
punch_buttonhead_begging for yourself
a lesson learned
mint in my garden
I'm not colonary, you know
you'd think it was reality
Eucharist_plan_making the rules
Jim will like it
down the aisle_mark-up_pigeon
you never joke
leopard skin_paeon_medical leave
wheat-some_coconut grove_dumb sucker
Lucy will_it would be so funny
but if you need it_consumer
you just don't do that_circumspect_Boo!
law maker_Nancy_Barney Greengrass
nom de plume_valence_aura
a real bitch_no madeja do_stupendous
earth shoes_Hollywood_Nick and Nora_Janick
a glowing report
the pleasure of handling horses
penny arcade_pakora menorah
the business associate now known as MacGuire
all your sisters are buying in
the Devil marches_Wrentham_one-thirty
the man scheduled_fifty feet
fifty feet from the door
my rigid acceptance
nutcracker with eye and lava lamp (for SLS), double american falls, niagara (for david & michelle), my eagle, eagle (for JBr), magnificent frigatebird (for DEK) 2013-2014
Logos for Demetri and Chris 2013
margalo with thermometer in an atmosphere of diamonds June 2013 (after e.b. white and garth williams)
Pretty Money Collection Not art. Just some pretty coins I found on the ground.
Rough-legged Hawk (for RA), Vivienne's Birds, Red-Tailed Hawk with parting clouds (for Jessi), Goose in Snow, Goose in The World, roaring tiger (for DEK) Elm Street & Trumbull Road 2012-2013
Painting on the Furniture 2009---->4-eva!!
Treefrog with Destroying Angels 2012
A short story I wrote last year
Here I lived. Piss and cement. An attempt at habitat: those few treed spots in the corner. The iron door, the sloped roof. Black paint peeling gate, flakes against my palms as I push my lips and mouth through when I try to kiss the females. It's folly only, I know they can't handle me.
Albert was my companion. We'd arrived together, my relation and intimate. Our parents old and grey, gone; our siblings, Lilla and Fred: taken to Berlin or Bucharest. Albert and I grew up and older. We shared little secrets, saw to each other's toilette, and fought for food when it was brought, to the delight of our guests. Years we lived like that, and a deep love developed between us. We were fine.
It is one thing to be under another's control and fight it. It is another to know your place and commit to it. Youth gave me an energy which I used to swing from the bar and kick at the gate, holler and yell, and spit fruit seeds back at Ernesto. Growing older helped me realize the worthlessness of these acts. I calmed. Albert and I calmed together.
Were they poisoning the peanuts? Albert was lethargic, Albert was ill. Albert was lying in the stubble grass for days. No coaxing of mine could arouse him, no whispers of private jokes or body massage could break his thin circling breath into conversation. Ernesto and others arrived, surrounding Albert with talk and grievance. I stayed away. I picked at my fingernails and toes. I washed my face and body. I folded myself around a tree. There were guests. I faced away.
At night, we breathed together. I finally fell asleep, and he finally fell dead.
I was lost.
Soon afterwards, a female arrived. She was jovial, had an easy sense of humor, and made good-natured jokes about Ernesto and our guests. She was a veteran as well, and took this place as her assigned domain, as she had done in her previous location. In her, as in me, had grown and taken root a sturdy acquiescence. Here we were. This was it.
It's not that I didn't try. I tried. But I had no endurance, and after a year they removed her (without notifying me in advance) and replaced her with another. Likable enough, we got along, but there was a discernible emotional distance. We simply weren't each other's type. After her, there was another, and one after that. I suppose it was my fault. I didn't have enough to give, or perhaps the memory of my life with Albert still weighed on my soul.
A noise in the night. The usual noise, the key, the bell, the door. They were bringing someone else in, another try. Enough. Too tired, too old, go away. My new mate loped over and occupied the far corner. I pretended to be asleep.
Cockcrow in the aviary. One eye open. Something is different. Of course! Last night. But... I smelled a male.
I avoided him at first. He was young, his eyes set deep back in his head, aware, and while I secretly watched him watching, mostly I ignored him. He can go fuck himself, I thought. He'll be out of here in a few weeks anyhow, why they even brought him in is a mystery.
Days passed like the peanuts passing through us. I was in a foul mood. I made no jokes, I refused to play host, show him the ropes, or any of it. He can break himself in. I've lost the need for friends. Ignore.
I pretended to ignore. I watched. I peeked discretely through my hair while sucking on a peel. I looked askance while evacuating. I kept one eye open and gazed at his sleeping body at night.
He was new to this, I could tell. His motions were hesitant, yet held a confidence which, I must admit, held me captive. He'd never greeted guests before, it was clear. I watched him learn the limits he could take it to. Because, believe me, there were limits. I watched him enjoy the small pleasures. I watched the large tiresomeness of it become revealed to him. This only took a few days.
I slept quite a bit during Hola's stay. The one and only direct contact we had was over orange peels. He had sensed I was in chronic ill humor. I had sensed he had sensed this and tried to avoid him more, for fear he might strike up a friendship. Nevertheless, one day at the bucket, as we sucked sweet orange in silence, I chanced to look up and there it was: He had lodged a peel between his teeth and lips, displaying it to me with a wide open grin. I glared, hostile, angry. He rolled with laughter and his body collected bits of peel and straw from the cement. I sulked. He tittered. I longed to groom him, but I kept this to myself.
Ernesto was his pal. A high-five here, a bear hug there. Teasing his string of keys, Hola fingers each one, different shapes, different markings: Lion, Seals, Gazelles, Us.
Ernesto leaves the door hanging, swinging for a moment between water and food, a block of sky-light, unobstructed, a cloud. He is casual with his keys today, yesterday, for months now, confident in my resignation. I had not paid mind. I considered myself out of the game. What came to me, hours later, half in sleep, was that Hola had paid mind. He had working eyes. Mine were retired.
Wake. Shake. What?! It's cold and dark, it's concrete. Leave me asleep, you stranger, you siren. Let me alone. Soft big foot pads press against my knees, my legs. Wake up! Upright then, with a start, and a blow to the face. Why are you near me! What do you want! I think of Albert. You are not Albert. I strike Hola again. A fall to the floor, but no anger? He shows only tolerance, and urgency. What is there to be urgent about? We are up now, the two of us, face to face, he, point to my counterpoint, leaning, letting out small quiet syllables, and pressing his fist into my belly. I am abashed. And then he opens his hand: Us.
smoke n' fire doubles as thinking cap December 2010 (for jbr)
Queensberry Street 1989
Birds, Boar, Bobcat 2010
7th Seal 1998