I Don't Want Anything To Happen To Him While My Mother's Alive

I do believe the last six months were the toughest for him. Living on a diet of cheap vodka and thinly sliced smoked turkey deli meat. His days cut in half, cheating on sleep, reduced to perform remedial housework and whipped into performing a sick daily exercise routine more compulsive than beneficial.

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The Artist And The Struggle To Breathe For Two

The jangle of a set of car keys and the anticipation of the ignition. Winter sealed pores pang with pain as sweat and toxin needle out of every hot spot on his body. The glove box mocked the icicled phalanges quivering to tear knuckle though dermis. He took care of his image not himself. The tree stays the same. It is the falling and coming of the leaves that prompts his disdain for change. For he, does not.

Mountain ceder pollen and the steady drip down the back of his throat. The vitamins do their job.

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Studio Work And The Lack There Of

Expression is also about what doesn't work out. What defeats you. That caramel center that is never there when you take a bite of your favorite chocolate. When they get your order wrong. Everything is always simple to someone else. And usually, someone who does not know what the Hell they are talking about.

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The slow pace of the studio and a lack of inspiration during the past several months prompted myself to look towards simplifying my subject matter for simplicity's sake, as well as my own. Having said that, I concentrated lost months of dedication and effort into a whirlwind session of color and gesture. These works all squeezed into a time window so tight and unbreathable, it was enough to doubt my creative limits. And when I stepped back to review my work, a familiar smile began to crack at the corners of my mouth. For nothing truly has changed...

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"Portrait of Jessica Trevino"
Mixed media on burlap

This painting was the most intense and yet, took only hours to complete. The model for the painting never modeled, the colors that engrossed the work itself beamed off no prism and the sweat upon my brow were thorns. Nevertheless, I truly believe my better works were always born out of spontaneity.

***Painting Detail***

***Painting Detail***

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And when there is nothing else...I am my own very best subject.

*Oil on wood panel*

This was my first study after a lengthy holiday hiatus away from the studio. It took several attempts at the same ideas to get back into the fluid of things. The photographed timeline was more important to me than the actual study itself. It is interesting to see where I was going and how I arrived from point to point. A constant dance of adding and subtracting.










Here's, to canceling out...

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