25th
i painted this in january of 2011. I used my fingers and spray cans on what feels to me like a slab of porcelain i found whilst my wanderings. The way in which i was painting during this period of my life was very different from this seemingly sudden manifestation. It began as a enigmatic rouge tulip as i lost myself in my fingertips…At a time where i couldn’t seem to complete a painting, constantly adding more pain to it (and crosses, miiight i add)— this painting gave me a millisec of sudden stillness in the tornado that was my life. Like someone pushed pause and grabbed my hand to stand beside me and share the blink in a mysterious puddle… This painting is a capture of a vision both past and future, it began as a memory experienced yet and seems to be nowhere near finished in all it came to say.. In all it’s holy revere, it began as a sweet rememberence of my favorite dream and yet, accumulates? come now! really? can i say thank you? and to who? me? i doubt it! its too good ,shitfuck, i can’t even bring myself to sign my own paintings, i’m too taken by it all. a “whoa”..only to be defeated by forgetfulness and desire for the man sitting beside me in it.dammit. (why do the visions/blinks feel so deep, slow, and heavy when you’re ingrained in them? only to be recollected as the most profound blink ever experienced. haunted by blinks that hold me anchored to the bottom of the sea. shit.) when will the present feel as good as the visions of what has been and will be? when will simplicity come into itself from its lcd? what is worse, being insatiable or waiting for all you need? I haven’t painted in 3months. i had a growth spurt. wrote a forest, and now i’m equally terrified as I am curious. here we go….progress
