When I completed reading The Memory Police I had an anxiety attack. Lived experience is gradually dismembered from the periphery to the very core of each inhabitant on the island. They do nothing to stop it. What truly terrified me, however, is the realization that one person, maybe two, on this earth have truly understood what is in my heart and how it works. When the people who love and shape our hearts are gone, who will keep track of us but the internet? I was only able to ease my mind when I placed Ogawa’s writing in the context of other writers and my own art work.
It’s been almost 130 days. Waves of horse shit fly from every imaginable source. We’re all covered in it. Fake news? How do you discern it? Try using common sense. This is not a witch hunt folks. It’s a sink hole that will, with cosmic providence, swallow every last person with stained fingers and pitcher’s elbow. If […]
While working on my most recent painting, the news has been appropriately filled with updates on the subject. We finally have a woman in the White House. Ivanka Trump has an office and access to classified information, though she is not technically serving as a government employee. She will be offering her father, Donald Trump, an independent perspective to […]
My most recent painting pays homage to one of the greatest portraits in history. Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez painted Las Meninas in 1656 for King Philip IV of Spain and his second wife Maria Anna of Austria. It has been described in many ways, including History’s First Photo-Bomb and the Canonical Masterpiece of Western Painting. It is […]
“Are they happy in their cages?” The county fair is an unlikely place to consider existential crises, but I had to ask. “Of course. I mean, I do take them out and love them. I sit on the the porch swing and we rock away.” Did she cuddle all 30 of her breeding rabbits? That […]