Monologue over at the shitty blog though I do want to note the below is a first draft I’m trying to talk myself into making a final draft but the urge to risk fucking it up strong: I left it in my office so at least I don’t fuck it up tonight
Been painting, not posting, not posting not by plan, just not posting. That’s new
The one from yesterday disappeared from here and still exists, I’m trying to reanimate it, this one I need to abandon now for its sake
This does not and never did exist in real life. The second after I photographed it it died a second ahead of second after second dying to dull muted flat half-colors by Monday late afternoon. I work water on paper, color dying the millisecond applied. This is natural
I cheat. The photo I took has been rotated 180 degrees from how I made this thing (like always, laugh, all these I make, my favorite uncanny me) and cropped to a rough square and enhanced exposure, contrast, and saturation-wise with my chromebook’s photothingee so what you are looking at is not what I made except it is
This is true of every made thing here. This the periodical full disclosure, I think it must have been a year at least since the last, probably yesterday. The whatever they are called displayed here exist but not as they appear here. A few have even dried better than the altered ones displayed here. I give them to my wife and daughter who both, professionals, make art teacher noises of praise
Left eye above, right eye below
Now in press, glued together, bonding over the weekend
First draw brush and squirt off-vacation, major favorite welcome home, now out of eyesight until tomorrow to dry. When I want (and I do) to paint on vacation but deliberately don’t, wonderful to remember I hate the part about needing to let a major favorite welcome home dry when head and hands know freshest ideas and wet work fade
Blue favorite color
but eats other colors, fine
metaphors abound
Wet ☝ Dry ☟
Destroying these doesn’t finish things, I can’t kill the already clouded, here, there
This one I’m keeping (at least for now) for me but if you want one of these please let me know, they’re the only creative thing left for me to destroy for my satisfaction
I’m demonstrating why I don’t spin all four sides of a hexjeff here though if you owned one you could spin as you like, let me know, I’ve a friend in work’s mailroom
As of now this doesn’t have a backhex so it’s not sixteen-sided yet, backhexes necessary to make the piece undisplayable
The canvas is a white event-quality plastic buffet dish, I stole a dozen from the kitchen of the conference room where the Library Board meets and big fundraisers are held (the view over the Potomac is spectacular), typed here so I’ll remember when I infrequently scroll down to remind myself that yes, what I did today I’d done before and before that too
Canvas the flimsy faux-cardboard back of a cheap paper tablet, typed here for the same reason I typed the above. I’ve completed all destruction of dead PCs’ hard drives and shredded (or put in locked shredding bins) all journals but the two (three if I count the Michigan) living ones (who knows what fate awaits their completion), hmmm, what’s left?
Egg a light bulb above pond
| How do they get there to cackle and kill | but by cackling and killing and kill you | to kill too, and you do, cackle at least | cawing for killing. Who you’d have to be | to be them you don’t have and are vermin | if not now when you can’t muck out stables, | old man. I need fill up my Subaru. | I never wanted an electric car |
Feels like the acrylic ink and/or fountain pen ink infused in clear elmer’s glue phase is fading, I desperately need to resupply and can’t be bothered to buy when four months ago they’d have been bought week’s ago, too many niggling demoralizing metaphors nagging, the above now glued back-to-back and in the paper press to bond with this below, the end product my son-in-law’s giftmas present
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:
I automatically renewed my wordpress subscription because and then my old avatar which last year after renewal disappeared now reappeared beneath my current avatar and wordpress, whose AI capitalizes the W and P five time before it believes me, fuck that, way too robust for me but I like the way it displays my shit so I’m not fucking with the avatars, amen, this is standard mix of acrylicinkglue and gouache but on a shiny piece of cardboard I found in the box of the new electric razor I need buy, above dead already, drowned, mud
6×6, acrylic ink, clear elmer’s Glue, gouache, watercolor block cardboard back
Laugh, wordpress changed dashboard, 12×12, acrylic ink infused in clear elmer’s glue, cold press, gouache
I verified the word obtain
meant what I thought it did
If I wasn’t losing language
I’d claim
language – and it’s 1035 Friday night
who the fuck is tapping at my door
this is the third time
first momcat
second neighbor cat
third the fuck is this –
gooier than gooache
I forget how to spell words now
The world we leave you?
Fuck and be happy, youngsters
Be happy and fuck
My right eye. Been enjoying and now indulging my worrying how can I date these squares if I glue them front to back and I can’t put the date, no matter how small and discreet cause the canvas spins, each hexjeff has four faces and when I write the date no matter how small and discreetly people will assume whichever way they read it is the sole orientation of the hexjeff and stop them spinning (and flipping and spinning) but *I* would like to know the month and year of something I made and despite the glut of shit posted here I don’t post everything here I like and might want to remember when I made it and with what medium, acrylic ink to words and everything between. Things will be here I want to potentially find that won’t be found at pOj or BLCKDGRD.
I resurrected Bray, deleted much of the content (it exists other places, I left just a few poems from 2010, 2011 left for visual of what was while I decide what I want going forward font, color size-wise, etc, done nothing yet), rebranded it Hexjeff ( hexheff dot blogspot dot com ), made it noxzema bottle blue, increased the size of the hexjeffs, and put it in blooger because (a) wordpress blowsso (sic), the fuck am I paying for it and now is six months or so before I need decide whether to pay for another year… but mostly (b) if I’m going to self-incriminate myself digitally while simultaneously burning all analog journals and painted squares I might as well do it on google via this chromebook
Sorry for explaining. Your mileage may vary but my trying to just say and not explain much better now than five years ago. Painting hexjeffs helps. My shitful vanity will will me to remind people from time to time of this joint, but I won’t be burying links for every post here at the other two, possibly soon to be one, places. My left eye:
Every one of them
I forget. Twenty-seven
years from now I’ll pick
up a squashed acorn
on an unrelated trail
and remember you
See what I’m reduced
to! Fucking aphorisms?
I like my anger
I glue these back to back, one object with two rotating sides (so eight awoogahexes), this is the other side of the previous awoogahex
pjoepf Of vriecyh 