Life is a shitstorm, in which art is our only umbrella. ~Mario Vargas Llosa Life is a series of shitstorms punctuated by short seasons of calm, the ebbs between the onrush of shit flushed into serenity and smelly chaos. Most of my shitstorms have been self-induced, the result of poor choices, boorish behaviors, impulsive actions […]
What is the proper response when hearing seven trumpets blowing sweet rock and roll? Is to dance with a queen using a mother of pearl comb to preen with strawberry scented vaseline while feasting on sardine and Holstein cuisine celebrating the anniversary of being deflowered by an Argentine in front of an obscene wide TV […]
The walls are the publishers of the poor. ~Eduardo Galeano There is a scene in the Monty Python movie, Life of Brian, where Brian writes on the walls, “Romani ite Domum” (Romans go home). The oppressed striking out against the oppressor with the only highly visible space available, the city walls, to gain a sliver, […]
Art is an effort, an opportunity to deviate enormous emotion and energy in a specific direction. ~Seth Godin I approach my art, my morning ablutions as a perfunctory ritual, something I must do when every fiber would prefer to meditate with eyes closed, snoring, looking for inspiration on the inside of my eyelids.
When you’re a poet and you have to live by night, there’s no way you can have a steady job. ~Roberto Bolaño By Señor Blaño’s logic, I have a steady job, therefore (ergo is a cooler word) can never be a poet unless I walk away from my steady job and live the hours of […]
If I had to give an opinion, I’d say they were paintings that weren’t really necessary. ~Haruki Murakami Is any art necessary? Objectively, it is pigment splashed on canvas, words inked on parchment, steel hammered into three-dimensional objects occupying formerly empty space. Completely unnecessary. Aesthetically, intellectually it may be pleasing, awe-inspiring to a subset of […]
As I stared at myself in the mirror, I thought about what it would be like to paint my own portrait…what sort of self would I end up painting? Would I be able to find even a shred of affection for myself? Would I be able to discover even one thing shining within me? ~Haruki […]