peeled

New York was everything it's supposed to be. FIve days in Mecca, and I return a not-very-changed man, but nevertheless stronger, faster and smarter (thanks to that fancy chip I had installed in my brain - thank you american private heath care!). Nearly a week of wearing out my shoe leather in Manhattan and hanging out in the galleries with giants and heroes has left me worn-out but happy (thanks to the ever-awesome presleyan, who repeatedly saved me from sleeping in the streets).

So it's back to work for a couple weeks, then goodbye soul-sucking office job forever. My dreams are full these days with happy, sugar-coated thoughts of studios and classrooms.

But meanwhile, it's so hot that it seems to take all the effort I have just to lie puddle-like on my couch and close my eyes to thoughts of being back on the open road.

Now weep before my awesome PHOTO ASSUALT!


Looking crazy and heatstroked outside the Whitney Gallery in NYC

And checkit out, yo. New work...


Untitled with Fish, Encaustic, screenprint + collage, baby


letter to Jasper Johns, 2006, Encaustic, acrylic, silkscreen + collage


bang bang, Grease pencil, mylar and scotch tape on canvas


two soldiers, Oilstick on paper


... and then there's this. I can't decide if I should paint it, leave it as a photo, or burn it beyond recognition. I'll call it self-portrait with watermellon #13