2024 Augustarchiving

Archiving these recent hexjeff’s against my tendency to forget to. All are gouache and acrylic ink infused in clear elmers glue, the two rimmed with painters tape part of a project I’m betting won’t see completion (and are now glued to each other, and I need write about that if only to myself in tablet with pencil, Jeff), the above (which may or not be glued to the below because the below has competition) has pencil (and if there’s a monologue associated with any of these it’s the above and will be or not at the sho(i)u(t)ty place)

2024 July 3

First two after the two week hiatus, I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I started again and that alone makes the hiatus successful

It’d flashed but never tableted that while most of these meant to spin four-sidedly in your hands I always post here the one of four on each I like best and without fail that one is the one upside-down from the orientation of the hex when permanent compositional boundaries set: whatever I make, upside-down be best and makes me laugh, and that alone makes the hiatus successful

2024 June It Wasn’t Murder, It Was Involuntary Bug Slaughter Until I Mercy Killed the Bug

Black earring in the pink Doctor Servin earlobe a live dying bug
Flew onto this canvas sodden w gouache & acrylic ink in clear Elmer’s glue
Landed at the top, dragged its ass down to the bottom, made it too
a dry spot – that orange blood trail to the left of the south Jersey
ear, the brush was the bug – and stuck, exhausted, in pain and desperately
scared, flapping its wings as I type this – wait a second – I say mercy
but what would anyone say if accused of an unwitnessed murder

2024 June 5


Just now, still wet.

I mentioned at BLCKDGRD a hiatus from these squares the week after next because – I didn’t say this there – my wife will be in Iceland with my daughter for two weeks on their dream vacation

I need process why I do this and need write in tablet with pencil to answer, what am I doing, how seriously do I take this as sustenance if I forget what I painted yesterday and how?

Two hours later (as in just now): above sopped up


The top headshot be dead, the below dying, if alive tomorrow I will kill it

2024 May Two Eyes

Don’t write a poem about
you and circles I tell me

How writing poems about
circles, the compulsion

to write them makes me
paint circles about circles

And those things I make
which I can’t call art

because there’s boxes of them
I can’t throw away in case

I get famous. Where I spot
on the spectrum I’m not sure

but am glad I was not
my third grade teacher

Why I hate revisions
Why I forget what I made
once I plunge publish
and put in a box and then seal

2024 April Four Self-Portraits, One Painting

Elmer’s Clear Glue infused with acrylic ink dropped from squirt bottle onto 8×8 cold press watercolor paper, my latest I will do this for life and master that I’ll abandon before mastering begins within (my limited – this is not modesty begging, is true – hand skills) the next month

Issue: Clear Elmer’s Glue warps the heaviest watercolor paper and even when I glue the back of one heaviest piece of watercolor paper I can find to a second heaviest piece of watercolor paper I found whichever canvas had the heaviest applied Clear Elmer’s Glue warps the second even if both squeezed immediately after gluing and tightened to the other in an excellent paper press I’ve access as muscled as I can then wait a month: released object flat as a new LP but immediately starts curling, how do I record the sound it must make?

Every two-sided hexjeff is eight different self-portraits, these scans suck, you should see them in sunlight and lamp light, if you want one let me know, some I’m keeping, most I’ll share, they’re meant to be handled and turned and flipped sixteen different ways and are by the three people read into the op (and whoever two of them may show), say someone’s toddler’s grape jellied hands and peanut buttered mouth picks up one at a showing and gnaws a corner, I’ll never be so lucky, there will never be a showing

2024 April 12

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

2024 February 20

Bigger, better here. If you’ve bookmarked here please bookmark there, as soon as I figure out how to export here to there here is going away next time wordpress asks me for money, I have about six months to figure out exporting. In meantime, what’s here will also be there and there will be things there that won’t be here

2024 Janubray 24

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:

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

2024 January Killing Horses for Art

Just reminded that Arches Watercolor Paper, cold press used above on something abandoned last night before I fuck it up, uses gelatin from slaughtered horses to create the retained brilliance of pigments (especially white) more after drying than cheaper watercolor paper, in protest I won’t buy anymore tonight!

Outside now twenty degrees, single-digit windchill and the ground covered in ice and snow and I’m wearing leather shoes and I won’t eat Arches Watercolor Paper, I can slough into my closet of constantly revised and updated My Sillyass Deserted Island Five Game of infamies in the history of my complicities, That should be my epitaph, says Km’pec, drinking his poisoned blood wine