April 10, 2009, 1:41 am
Filed under: Blogging | Tags: , , , ,

I need dirt. Just some dirt you know? So that it’s real.

Some good heavy stuff, to get underneath my fingernails.

Relationships that end mutually between two people who are pretty much absolutely perfect for each other but can’t be together due to outside influences hurt in a new way.

They hurt more because you both love each other and  not one of you “deserves” to be broken up with.

They hurt less because you both love each other and not one of you “deserves” to be broken up with.

I’m foregoing virtual connections with people. I need real things. I need to grow my  tomatoes on the back porch. And to paint messy paintings. And to apply for Columbus State University.

I need to journal. I’ve been pretty good about it actually. Tonight I wrote enough to rival even the most distraught of jilted 12 year old girls. Seriously, as far as sheer length, gay men probably have the most journaling potential of any demographic.

My doggy is hurt. She favors and is tender with her front right paw. There are no visible signs of injury nor are there any bones broke. So, vet tomorrow.

This summer is important. It’s going to be wonder. More legendary even than Summer ’07. I freakin’ mean it too.

I’m going to paint and draw and garden and hang out and drink (a little) and camp and generally be awesome.

And let my heart rest.

It’s been about a year since I came out (I told my mom on April Fool’s Day… honestly I didn’t even think about it at the time.)

I need a solid six monthes to work on myself before I go tryin’ to start some relationshit.

Wow. Firefox’s built in spell checker did not count “relationshit” as a misspelling. I guess you learn something new everyday.


Here, have some kittens:

March 25, 2009, 10:31 pm
Filed under: Mysteries | Tags: , , , ,

I painted somehing stupid. It’s pointless and dumb and really just a peice of stupid. Honestly it’s not bad exactly it’s just not worth anything (including time, effort or giving a care).

I decided to stumble around to find some art (I use the “drawings” catagory, it’s great.) and then I decided to post a blog with TEN links or images of what I found.

Well, part way through it I started to realize I wass too shut up. I need to explore this town, this house maybe, find the art in the objects and the light and the peoples faces and the buildings and roads and the words and thoughts. And I will.

Here’s ten things:


(this guy wont allow right clicking. good call)


I need to feel.  To experiance. Normal stuff. Town stuff. Friends stuff.

And draw it.

I need to go to a fine art museam. And soak it all in.

Oh my yes. That’ll do it.
March 23, 2009, 7:50 pm
Filed under: Mysteries | Tags: , , , ,

I wants me a digital camera what doesn’t suck.

And some paint markers.

Seriously, have you guys seen these things?



Seriously. Sharpie has n extremely diverse selection of paint markers. I don’t know if they are the best paint markers, however, sharpie has always treated me well in terms of markers.

Consumer talkin’.

Anyway, I need a serious mask before I go buyin’ paint markers or spraypaint (by the way, I’m not going on a graffiti spree, I just wanna use traditional graffiti tools for regular studio art… seriously) I need a mask.

I should be asleep, not writting love poems.
March 8, 2009, 1:24 am
Filed under: Blogging, Mysteries | Tags: , , , , ,

Every pop song says
And in words true as the Bard’s
You got me goin’.

My soul shall concede
To hold together atoms;
A shape that you love.

Although I have learned from the best,
Even now I am put to the test.
For in love  there’s no sleep,
And your tender words keep
Me from getting much needed night’s rest.

With words I was always so slick,
And my verbiage indelibly thick.
Now my sentences muddle,
I’m completely befuddled,
When attempting to converse with Nik.

I admit it was was not at all smart,
Rationality little part.
But when I heard his voice,
I had zero choice,
Save to blindly
surrender my heart.

I took this picture. Its probably painted over by now...

I took this picture. It's probably painted over by now...

I’m not doing much.

I have an Acrylic On Canvas I want to get framed. I have not painted it yet but I know it needs to get framed. It will be a recreation of the painting described in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, of the painting of the actual Dawn Treader. I hope that sentence made sense.

I’ve been thinking about graffiti more and more. About the concept at least. Going out, and, in the defiance of rules, creating art.

Anywhere a concrete structure is, it’s part  of it’s environment. So, when a graffiti artist sprays a stencil or draws on concrete of=r any structure they are not  simply adding art to something pre-existing. It’s not like hanging a canvas on the wall. The canvas can be moved, picked up. The canvas is it’s own object. Separate from the other. The canvas is unrelated to the wall.

But it’s different when a graffiti artist bombs a wall. Here the word bomb means “the act of writing a grafitti tag in a highly visible public place.” ( They are not just putting something onto something else, they are changing the object in question.

They create transformative art rather than additive (yes, here the word “create” can be argued against, as one does not (usually) build the structure one bombs). This is pro-active rather than passive and therefor a logical artistic extension of the city-dwelling attitute.

There is something else. If art is about saying something, then the real primal human beauty of graffiti is in it’s recklessness, because the artist has something to say and he or she refuses to acknowledge society’s laws and taboos.  They want people to see and to read and too know. And this is, if nothing else in the world is, art.

I’m not comparing graffiti to any other art; and I’m am definitely not saying that it is more noble, or more true, or that one is better than another.

I’m merely choosing to celebrate this reckless abandonment and brutal public exposition. I want to learn from it. I want my own art to be more active, more forceful, more like whatever essence of harsh, messy expression that graffiti artists seem to possess.

In reality, all of the arts are vital; theater, dance, film, literature, poetry, doodling on napkins, oil painting, drip painting, finger painting, screen printing,  LED tagging, tatoos and a trillion other things.

Little bits of human souls and feelings locked in images. It’s pretty and it says things and all that. But,in the end, it’s the only way we can really show ourselves to others.

I celebrate myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

Walt Whitman

from Song of Myself

Duckie Nightstand
February 23, 2009, 9:54 pm
Filed under: Mysteries | Tags: , , , ,

I need to get a mask.


No spray painting untill then.

February 21, 2009, 1:05 pm
Filed under: Blogging, Mysteries | Tags: , , ,