Yerp! / He's On Fire / Yeah

Add yeah add yeah add

Exhausting / Plinkyety Plink / Confessions / Slipping

Fake It til You Make It. 

I haven't written in a while.

Been putting food on the table. Trying to communicate in the Tower of Babel. Keeping it '100'.

Working more than is good for me, and therefore more than adequately gives me enough time to look for work outside what I am doing. I love what I am sometimes able to do and accomplish, and I do my best to mitigate the physical impact that is having own my body. I am still managing to squeak out some artwork, a few pieces of which I can stand to look at again. I've tabled the idea of doing a print book for the time, even though my draft (whipped up in just three days!) is complete at 280 some pages.

But...

I need to get real. I'm exhausted emotionally all the time. I'm physically sore from the time I get up until I uncomfortably lie in bed hoping my brain will stop doing loop de loops. My knees hurt every time I get up or bend down. I continue to have lower back and abdominal pain, but I'm not spending any more money to be told there is nothing wrong, and I'm a needy hypochondriac. But I know I am not healthy. I can feel that I am not 100% and that my lifestyle is seriously compromising my health.

Even though I have tools to help, I simply can't be high all the time. Too many things need my attention. Too many things are too complicated for me to just sit around in a semi distracted state. I have a hard enough time staying focused on the currently spinning plates. Eventually one of these plates is going to break if I don't figure a way out of my over-commitment.

James @ Stern Grove / Good Things

Santa Fe Trip / Good Things

Bob / Good Things

March Jubilee / The Temples of Madness / The Persistence Of Admission / To my Love / Meow!

A voice in the wilderness / A slight sense of flowers in the snow / democracy dissolves - Some of the week in pictures

Finally Rain!

My only friend...the rain!

Everything before the Deluge sounded like a whisper talking to a scream / Stray dogs / my mind

Been so long / So confused / SO tired / SO overstretched to the point of infinity / no time for art / no time for reading / everything is trash / everything is squealing / everything is simply on fire in the skyline where angels rest / I hate this / Hate You / Hate ME / HATE THIS / Tired Of This / Camilla, the old, old, old, old story....this story is old. I have been bought and sold. Everything in your heart chases gold. Everything is happening now. / I am a fraud, and a failure, and a relief / I am the chief architect of my disappointment, my arm detachment - detected by dis-a-jointment / boy's turf / dream/ fans / flutes / fanatics / fluid / hope/ dreams / release / gates / open / happiness / waiting till some sort of sunshine happens to wander by...

 New York n/ State of My-ind

Marin. Pffffhhhttt!!!

 San Francisco / wrong season the tree is dead / the sky is blue

 Fremont / we'll meet again

 Pastel Skies / snuggle bunny

Miss you kitchen kitty

Help me remember me / I was somebody

The The / lifeline save  me healing

You throw rocks

the docks heave 

the wove and the wreaths are satisfied

the wraiths and the willows are seated and sated

the tires all fall flat and deflated

cu cut cut cut couldn't sleep at all /

can't sleep / can't sleep

can't sleep

the empty houses

dead parental spouses

espousing silence and 

form\function

what

what

what

what

weird

art of nothingness 

*quiet*

Been SO Long / Saluting / At The Finish

I haven't been here in awhile.

SO much on my mind, more pictures and thoughts than words.

Seasons are changing, time is passing. Fires are burning. Lots of pictures of mistakes.

Lives are ebbing. There is both constant chaos and quiet reflections.

I reach for you
a ball of yarn
to reconcile my feelings,
loss of all those over time
but still you
unwind
in my mind
you become every
face, many faces
like fibers folded all together
to measure at life's finish.

Many faces, all filled with grace.
I reach for threads,
but they slip away
cords unstripped by design
into the winds like golden hairs they fly
many traces of whiskers of history of faces
every one of you belongs here.

Every ball that draws us up,
will unspool at the end of time
and rub our nose in the decay,
but I was lying when I said
I was going to be brave.

You want life to rave up,
but occasionally you come to the breakdown.
someone takes a brick from your foundation
and you lose all sense of place.

I know that it hurts,
I just don't know how hard.
An small explosion,
like a fist in a pile of flour
erupting like a thousands clocks going off the rails
dangerous moments among the faithful.

(quiet) (quiet) (quiet)

you look at me with these eyes.
diving into each other,
I have loved you
I have failed you,
and I will reach across
the bridge of time
for you.

The Movie At The Rest Of Time

Toxic,
Information,
infestation,
hateful fascination
lately, hazily and in your face-ly
media wash-overs
a million stories a minute
and I cannot swim well anymore;
drowning sometimes.
overwhelmed beyond a careless yawn.
indifference
then sleep.
(then kisses, then dreams, then hope without heartache for
a million daffodils waving like a chorus line)
everything joyful is ignored
everything changes too quickly to fall in love to deeply
to keep things close which
one can keep
that any fire might
render asunder
low grade chaos,
every star in the night sky
exposes by flame
the game changed
me, who I once knew
into something new
I cannot swim through
I sometimes miss The Who I thought I knew
(then there are things I know / my baby just cares for me /
each star in the sky dulls in comparison / to he)
sand, caving in from waves
which I understand overlap
birds flap over heads, things go white,

and for a minute I gaze as time passes
in the quiet/loud
in here.

I'm always in here.
everything seems to come back here.



























my thoughts, dark or light, to the same place.
circling and circling and circling
inside my anxiety
my trembling before
the cage bars
to a frozen bird.

Trying to find a way out of the art slump / I Still Exist / Re-Ignite!

I can still see.
everyone wants to jump on the bandwagon,
post on instagram,
twitter storm to social media-whore fame.
I tell myself one day
all the clouds will fall away
and the simple things,
the leaves that sway,
the drag of a pastel across paper
in a summer breeze
and the rustle of absent people
will be the only
thing that is heard.

'Play In The Clouds' (Spitfire Pathways), 2018, Mixed Media on Toned Paper

The Thousand Blurry Joys of Memory / This Story Is Told In Parts

Why can't you reach inside
Like I have?

That scar on your face
that beautiful face of yours
don't you think that I know
that they've hurt you...before.

Oh my memory...serves me far too well.

Valentines / New Year / Love

Kyle, Casey, Casey's Fiancee, Jacqi and Me, Company party 2018

At Work Shenanigans

Agate Cove, Sunrise

Robert Under The Trees

Trees For Robert

He Works Hard For The Money!!

Ptttttp! (Yeah, its a fucking bat, yo.)

Oh The Hugh Manatee!!

Besties, 2018

Wandering In The Cross-Town (Mental) Traffic

Picture this: A Synopsis (AN unspooling)

melting into the sea
sightless ego made of sand, revealed
not as strong or mad, or ego-free
as I thought I would be...

why am I so angry. so easily bothered/ upset?

Roaming the country side asleep on a dead horse / tethered.  Haunted by witches, still.

getting/moving/seeing/seething/pleading/eyes/distracted

moneyed/cruel/tools/sales/veils/nails/rails/pale/white/whale

first drawing. in a while. did I break myself?

I feel talented and stupid. The boredom of too tightly a repeating pattern enrages me. Co-workers seem to like me. But they also cry to me and naturally deputize me for things because of my age. I am now one of the old guys where I work. There are only two people older. They don't know any of the bands that mean anything to me, even though the music plays on the radio throughout the day. They don't understand why I know all their bands too. People don't try very hard to find out anything anymore. They huff and puff their way out of the simplest tasks. Also: Get off my lawn.
















Even on my best days, I do not feel like I fit anywhere right now.  Nathaniel makes it seem so easy.

In some ways I feel like a turntable which has reached the end of the record and is just going around the last groove because the return arm is malfunctioning in their working life. The balance of personal projects and professional life seems dauntingly cyclical. Actual praise seems weird and foreign. People so kind and present sound like background noise to the din of angry hateful voices not getting what they want no matter how many organs I offer up for sale. I realized why I hatred retail too many months ago to sound pathetic anymore. Money craziness. Work imbalance. A certain deadening that creeps in with the realization there is no getting off the treadmill at all costs.

I feel genuinely frayed most days. Predominantly inadequate on a number of levels. Feeling challenged on the things I feel skilled at. Everyone else is taking so much, the well is dry when I dare to look. But so much beauty....and potential. Hang in there, Steve. Hang in there.

Just passing through 'till we reach the next phase / the futures changed / perceptions all been erased