Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Wednesday, August 24, 2011


Awaking to wonder
To nothing other than
Brilliant colors
Scraping up hope
And preserving
It in jars
How is it possible
To go so far
While remaining
So scarred
We elevate
Our status
Then drink bottles
Of malice
Never a question
Never a quote
Never a quake
Strong enough
To jolt the fabric
The fabric of all
The minuscule worries
Of Giants
Out of a desolate slumber
Out of a jar like no other
With only one color

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Funk Funky

Haven't created much lately. Just been busy writing some stories and thinking up new ideas and whatnot. I'm considering writing some articles for a website but not sure about it. They will pay a few bucks for each article that I write so I would have to write at least 40-50 articles in order to make a good chunk of change. They are not asking for anything lengthy or overly detailed. Just something with a good beginning and end. I would also have to do some research as well. Maybe I will give it a shot. Who knows? I do need a new mattress of some sort. Maybe I can earn enough to buy a new one or get my current one stitched up. Hmmm.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Sofa That Ate Everyone (excerpt)

Here is an excerpt from an original story of mine titled 'The Sofa That Ate Everyone.'

It was a boring Saturday afternoon and I was sitting on the living room floor reading a comic book. The only reason I was sitting on the floor was because my parents had ordered a new sofa a few days earlier and gave away our old sofa. Don’t ask me why. I guess they grew tired of sitting on the same brown sofa every day. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that our dog, Wally, loved to chew on it.
  “Hey, Billy! Check out the cool claws that Dad bought me at the mall!” My little brother, Logan, burst through the front door. He was only seven years old but he was smarter than most seven year olds. Oh and yes he was named after a certain comic book hero. I won’t say which one but you can probably guess.
  “I kind of wish they were real claws instead of plastic but they’re still pretty cool.” He ran up to me and formed a super hero pose by flexing his scrawny biceps.
  “Yeah, those look awesome, Loggy!” I liked calling him Loggy.
  “Billy! Would you mind giving us a hand here?”
  Mom and Dad were trying to shove the new sofa through the doorway. Mom had insisted on paying extra for delivery but Dad was convinced he knew what he was doing. Just like always.
  Two summers ago there was a huge beehive hanging from the oak tree in our backyard and Dad took it upon himself to get rid of it. He armed himself with nothing more than a hockey mask, oven mitts and a rake. Oh and he also had me and Logan standing by with the water hose. He counted to three and then struck the beehive with the rake. It fell to the ground and a swarm of bees quickly followed! Dad then ran towards us shouting, “Turn on the hose! Turn on the hose!”
  Unfortunately, we were both in too much shock at the sight of that many bees. We couldn’t believe our eyes! There must have been over a thousand of them! The only thing we could do was stand and watch Dad get stung multiple times by some pretty angry bees. Logan and I never got stung for some reason. Probably because the bees didn’t see us as a threat.
  I once saw this show where some guy covered his entire body with millions of bees! He allowed the bees to crawl all over him for a full twenty four hours. A few of them crawled into his ears and nostrils. Afterwards, he said that the bees didn’t sting him because he remained perfectly calm and didn’t panic. The bees had no reason to sting him because they did not see him as a threat. Too bad Dad didn’t see the same show.
  He flailed his arms around and swatted at them until he could swat no more. Luckily, I was able to break out of my initial shock induced trance and turn on the water hose full blast. By the time I had soaked Dad from head to toe the bees had finally given up. Mom came home from work early that day and helped him pluck out all the stingers. That was also the day that Dad found out he was allergic to bee stings. His face and arms were swollen for a whole week! He kind of looked like a scarecrow that had been overstuffed with hay.
  I still laugh about it sometimes whenever I see a beehive.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Foul Blue Accuser

Still working on my short stories and other novel ideas. I recently came across some publishing companies that look promising. I suppose my focus has shifted a bit from art to writing but I am still painting as much as always.

Here are two recent abstract paintings. I used acrylic paint, tissue paper and a thick gloss.