Category: Dark

2024 October 18

Didn’t stop painting but did stop thinking about posting them, as in it wasn’t a conscious decision, I just stopped posting them, that’s new, excellently encouraging, excellently frightening. Should I post a shadow of what I made?

One of the three people who’ve seen one of these in real life said more people in real life are not going to see them unless I put them out there and you should put them out there, more people should see them. I don’t want to, praise me for these all you people who’ve never seen one of these and never will. I keep posting shadows of what I make. Finest fucking metaphor for me forever me

2024 October 6

The post below finished, not touching it again, learn when to abandon, yo, first time I used straight watercolor in months if not year or two. I’ve discovered the longer I let the first draft cure the crisper the wet interaction between first draft second draft – curing prevents the heavier from flooding the lighter. Meanwhile:



2024 Septanger 10

So to remove one or the other or both and add a new avatar I need register for and teach myself something called gravatar and at first glance fuck that (I would keep and/or replace the red, definitely want to delete me). I just renewed wordpress for another year, it’s not buyer’s remorse, it’s buyer’s self-contempt in service to fine self-servicing metaphors abounding

The above’s paper scissored into a rough circle and glued to the below, scissored into a rough circle, currently in the excellent book press I have access to, once solidly glued it will be put in a box and not looked at again until time to destroy the contents of that box, I know it’s not the best way to express myself to others but currently this is the only way to express myself to me

2024 Januangry Rules Fool

Doesn’t exist as was above anymore. After debate, thankfully won by Fuck It (more often than not by lots Fuck It loses in many aspects of my life, many of those many loses valuable loss leaders in real life), I peeled off the yellow and blue masking tape though I thought this a good chapter one, much promise

Now that above the new above doesn’t exist does the pdf of what once existed count as an object now that no one can (not that anyone would) hold it, spin it, get fountain pen ink on the tips of fingers when you hold the edges to spin and flip over, and though you might see (but never hold, spin, get ink on your fingers) what I will glue to the back of the object that remains, *that* object will have no paste relationship to the above that no longer exists though it’s glued to what it was, yes or no, answer me, me

As for what remains on excellent cold press watercolor paper whose superior pigment absorption via rendered slaughtered horses’ hooves Fuck It if I fuck it up Fuck It if call it quits Fuck It does this poem exist, fuck yes

2023 December 21

Above and what’s written about it posted earlier today at the shouty place:

The Artist Giving the Finger: to be honest, like everything I make, from paintings to decent Roc ups for a rare pick-up-disc putt to human relationships, I depend entirely on coincidence which occasionally morphs into serendipity: the finger found me, I did not find the finger

2023 May Awoogahex


Excrutiating,
waiting for saturated
cold press block to dry

Exasperating
warping then saturated
happy accidents

I claim my idea
Bliss. I’ve three canvases sop
pingwet, teaching my

self blue so I can
teach myself green, awooga
my cataclysmic

pacifier, boop, thumb
in my canary elbow
of weathervane an

kle of cassandra
merkin of fool. Digit
al type while gouache dries

2022 March 2


A vomit is an extreme burp
I once consoled Billy Wayne
busy extreme burping on my shoe

I need to start a new elephant
note page for March but was
afraid I’d forget this poem’s first

sentence formatting another
month in a platform I’d rather
paint bricks than use. No

abacuses were used in the how
old are you Jeff the gimmick
rictus of this poem. I’m growing

2023 February 6


Strongest proof of god
is that I can’t sing, second
proof I can’t draw shit

I not only can
nap now I need nap or I’m
feebler than new borns

I lose my balance
opening the dishwasher
Still love steep mountains

up but steep mountains
down now no, fucking hurts, knees
yes, eyes more, can’t see

where feet go, will I
kill myself deliberately
or “stumble” to my

death, a soccer team’s
shirt has joint you can bet my
death over/under

2022 September 21

*

  1. Not reminded myself lately outloud of my Slothrop allusion, my telemetry and America’s still aligned and synchronized
  2. Jeff = America’s Death Path! though I’ve been eating healthier and taking long lunch walks, I hope I’ve bought us another eight minutes!
  3. BLCKDGRD’s coma remains, I’m enjoying a fascinating wave of frantic sparking (sic) panicky zen, a new sensation, fun, I hadn’t gauged my fuckit meters to alert me my damn’s low, dashboard alert on the. fuck. it.
  4. I link fish for you cause I read what I catch and want to share but ever-worsening duh, do you need me to awooga it at you?

2022 August 14

Full disclosure: these *are* watercolor and ink and pencil on either regular graph paper or regular watercolor paper (Arches, yes, fuck me, the block does keep the paper from warping when drying), but to capture a closer image to what they look like wet (versus what they look like dry) I scan the dried on the office scanner/printer and enhance the colors using souped-up saturation and souped-up vividness and souped-up sharpness and souped-up resolution, I don’t consider this cheating given the limited skills of the artist for anything but lines and color but think I should mention it in case *you* think it’s cheating, fine metaphors abound