Tehachapi's Artist Community - grungehobbit.com

Reflective Moon

This is a fingerpaint I did with splashes of 91 proof rubbing alcohol.  I even left my hand print on the moon so that you would know.. it's a finger painting.

Death to Pastels 

I threw a bunch of alcohol on this finger-painting.... driiiiiiiiip.   You really have to see this one in real to appreciate the textures.

The sting of her slap hurt like hell,
a reminder that I’m alive.
So cruel of me to show affection,
to be so sexually passionate,
only to abandon her after one night.

I remember how I breathed as I clutched the sheets
while the rhythm of Us descended upon me…

Here I stand looking into the eyes of your soul once again…
Breathing the same breath as I did so long ago

I wounded you and brought death to your love for me

Did ya catch me falling?   Crap... lol

Wow, this was worth the climb!

No worries, this is the easy part... down hill.

Hey Little lady, hope I'm not bothering you.

Life and my ideas of her assimilate inside me at times without my knowledge. Innate defense mechanisms naturally conceal painful experiences via denial, lies and suppression, while other survival instincts foolishly embrace pleasures regardless of the consequences.  This is normal, however a fragile mind often requires an opaque retreat in which to shelter it from the glare of sentience.

There is no mystery to why visual artists come to places such as Tehachapi to find inspiration. The magnificence of granite boulders and trees has endured the struggle of time, casting shadows along the sun-coated mountains creating natural muses.  Sounds and smells of wildlife and earth’s magnetic pull on melted snow is the perfect blend to animate such an atmosphere of subsistence and energy.

An aasvogel plunges towards her rubescenting prey, not craving avulsion or mordant wreckage, but to carve her desires in bone. Descending from a blood tainted sky and the sanctuary of her abode, she soars to greet a much-desired force majeure. With a perfunctory glance back at her secure yet deserted past, the valiant allotheist is encouraged to cave into restless depths of adoration.

She is defenseless in her innominate mask.

Literary profundity intensifies her awareness, passion and wisdom.

Her pain, completely recognized, is unsympathetic and combative

And yet, she weeps at the sight of anguish

This insatiable poet’s love has countless tribulations...

She will envy your significance and despise your deficiency.

Devoted to convictions that in time no longer hold true.

Her fear of being exploited is parallel to her desire to love.

A constant need to be surrounded by feigned aficionados...