Tv party tonite

were

gonna

have

a

tv

party

tonite!

lightning and cupcakes

Sorry about last art hop, but I was over that shit. Hanging out at broadway for 20 hours a day for like 2 weeks straight, made me an anxious one about seeing a shitload of people all up in my house. So I had to leave. fuck it. So if you were looking for me, I apologize.
I did go back afterwards though, to check up on the old girl.
A thunderstorm was about to come through town and punch all the palm trees in the face.
So me and Frank decided we would go outside and have a couple of cold ones in the side parking lot, you know, the one facing the hands playing the piano mural.
We stood there waiting for it, and it couldnt have come at a more perfect time. I was feeling shitty and the impending thunderstorm seemed like just the thing to wash away this old skin/jadedness/uglyness.
The raindrops got fatter and fatter and the wind more fucking fierce. Then the thunder, and finally the lightning, which was amazing. we stood right in the middle of an open lot, hoping to get struck by lightning. But no luck. It looked like it hit just on the other side of the bridge, and I imagined it striking a crackhead in Chinatown and making him into some sort of superhero.




Yesterday was my brothers birthday. Happy Birday Brudder!!!!
Heres my nephew fucking some cupcakes up.



Heres some cheese ballness from this show I did last month at "Strands", a hair salon in North Fresno.
My Mom teared up when she saw it. Funny how Moms are so easily impressed when their kids are fuck-ups.

at my funeral...

....i want an orchestra to play this song.



brings tears to my eyes, every time i hear it, or whistle it loudly when i go for my drunken walks down East Side back alleys.

im in the mood for some Me & Eds. think i'll go have some.

fart chopper.

okay. havent had a chance to really write anything in a few but here goes.

my show in the front broadway space has been cancelled, due to dumbass-ness/double booking.
I originally wrote a really fucking nasty hate letter, then decided to delete it and go the high road. I dont hate the person, and shes been nothing but nice, from the moment I was asked to show there, and up until her apology letter. So I didnt want to offend.
But it just doesnt make any sense to me to double book a show, when one of the artist you double booked has a fucking studio in the same building as your space. Fucking idiots. I was gonna fuck that show up too. had an installation ready and everything. Fuck it, two tears in a bucket. and NO, I dont want to show at a later date. Im fucking over it.

anyways, heres some pics of my cousin who was in town last week from Oaxaca.










so my shows cancelled, but im still showing some shit at Broadway, in the halls and in front of my walls. come by. Bring all your friends. I'll put pics up tomorrow.
Heres some other shit you should check out.




also, Broadway Alum, Teresa Flores, is showing some some shtuff at Milanos in the Fulton Mall. Go check it out, have a beer and some pizza.

friday after next.

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fucking 307 am and im ready to head home, and wash this fucking filth off my body. A new skin has formed in pastel colors on my hands, forearms and feet, due to paint slangin'.
-rapidograph ink smells like cat urine
-my right arm hurts at the bend due to russian throwing knives last night with Frank
-next weeks show might be a 2 man show, instead of just me by myself
-futons are stupid to sleep on
-ramen is amazing
-dont climb up the side of buildings if you're drunk and the first summer thunder storm is peaking

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fuck, im tired.

multiple skull-yosis

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So ive been slaving awayy lately, drawing my little heart out, well kind of.

I've come to a point now where the limits to what i choose to do are not my abilities, but only the extent of my imagination. So why at this point would I choose to do something so overkilled and overused in art....the fucking human skull?
Well, I dont like to explain myself, or the things I choose to draw, or do. But I feel like I should for this one.
Everyone draws skulls growing up, and tough looking shit, like guns and cars, stuff like that. Well, I never did. I just skipped through that phase. I was really good at rendering, so I started drawing titties, and asses. Thats all I cared about.
But, I came across this book on anatomy that has photos of actual human skulls in it, and I thought back to this time, and decided thats what I wanted to explore right now.
My friend Reza has actual human skulls in house. They freak me out and I refuse to really even get near them. Im quite superstitious, you know. But Rez has no qualms about it. He's even told me these fantasies he has about the people whos brains those skulls once held, coming back and chit-chatting with him. Maybe having some spiritual beer and shooting the shit about the weather. Kinda weird.
But he said something that really hit home, once. He said that the skulls, help keep his neurotic fear of death in line. How, I dont know. Its like a backwards therapy. And I can relate to that, as I once went crazy collecting all the dead animals I could find, and played taxidermist in my garage 2 summers ago, until I started getting anxiety attacks and decided I wanted to give everything I owned, away. But thats another story, for another time.

and along came polly.
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this drawing is made up of 4-18" X 24" sheets of paper I taped together. Fucking killed me. I started it yesterday around Noon, when I got up, and then took a nap because my back hurt so fucking bad around 11 p.m. Then woke up at around 2 a.m., went to 7-11, looked through a couple of magazines and bought an energy drink, then went home and drew some more, and finally went back to sleep at 9 a.m. this morning. I could only sleep for about 2 hours after that, and I've been up since then.

I timed myself last night on how much lines I can draw per minute, after remembering a funny conversation I had with Josh and Jason, last time I was in Portland.
Turns out, I draw 150 lines, about a quarter inch in length per minute. In an hour, thats 9,000 lines. This drawing took about 20 hours. That times 9,000 =180,000 lines in this drawing. Roughly.
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That fucking Rockstar I drank last night made my piss a weird neon green color. I swear. It looked like anti-freeze.

new drawlings.

new work. i shot the contrast way up because the photos came out too blue. but by the time i discovered this, it seemed like too much trouble to go back outside and reshoot them. you get the picture. if you wanna look at these close up or see what they really look like in real life then come to my show in the front broadway space, next thursday, June 4th.
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