Thursday, August 7, 2014

Elizabeth Peyton

Spent a brief moment this afternoon standing puzzled in the studio amidst my previous visit's mess. I then opened my book of Elizabeth Peyton's art and sat on the floor flipping through the pages, reading bits and pieces, staring here and there. I decided to take a walk down the street to the cafe I work at and order a sandwich and check out the book more thoroughly with a pen and my notebook. I jotted down ideas that occurred to me while reading the book, which now looking back, seem to be completely unrelated to the book:

-multiple eyes
-multiple features for a freaky affect
-double exposure mixed media
-relearn xerox transfer
-vintage postcard paintings
-small votive paintings

I'm drawn to how Elizabeth Peyton becomes transfixed by a certain person and must paint them over and over again. I'm drawn to how quick they seem yet how intense they are. They pack a punch. I love her drawings too and I think I need to reference her for future endeavors. I should print some of her images out and stick them in my scrapbook of delight (or book of shadows).

One of her obsessions is Kurt Cobain. Here are but 3 of many many many. I love them despite the fact that Kurt looks way too pretty in them.


She also loves What's-his-face from Oasis. Liam Gallagher. How freakin' intense is this? Truly.

Plus, she was born in Danbury and so was I. This motivates me for some reason. I bet we were both born in the same damn hospital! Perhaps the goddess of art who blessed her at her birth was also there for me when I was born! Yeah? Right?

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

true detective

So I recently finished the first season of the series "True Detective" and my mind is still blown, still thinking about the characters and their dynamics and struggles and the darkness and magic that was so deliciously portrayed. I'm not one to really sit down and become engrossed in tv series, I couldn't tell you the first thing about pretty much anything that anyone's watching these days, but "True Detective" was a rare exception. It was a sophisticated and intelligent work of art that I found was truly worth my time.

One of the things I found that I really appreciated about the show was the title sequence. The dark, double exposed and gritty images portraying a decaying landscape inside silhouettes of the characters, burning like end times. So I decided to do a little research and found this gem of an interview:

Some of my very favorite images from the opening sequence:

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

I've been reviewed and interviewed!

I just wanted to share this lovely review my friend Rachel wrote about me and my art. She also asked me a couple questions about my process and influences. This is pretty much the best thing ever:

living with myself

How do I even start? That's how I'll start this entry. And I think that's the whole point anyway. I haven't really created since February. Except for these quick and sloppy and slapdash things that I drew just to freaking do SOMETHING AAHHHH

A bunch of crappy cell phone photos of off-the-cuff drawings that take literally a few minutes. Lately I am just having the hardest time sitting down and starting something. I let a billion things run through my mind and distract me from focusing. And because I'm anxious that I'm not creating anything really substantial or awesome, I enter this downward spiral of self-doubt. AAAHHH STOP IT BRAIN. Ironically if i just shut up my brain and sat down and DID SOMETHING I"D FEEL SO MUCH BETTER!

Sometimes i drive myself freaking insane.

Monday, February 3, 2014

mumbo jumbo

Ok so I was thinking maybe along with posting stuff I make, I can post other people's stuff that I find super awesome and inspiring and write about why. I think that could be a helpful exercise in keeping motivated to create.

That will be a future post. For now, here's my latest shtuff:

I'm doing a series of vans. This one is #3. number 4 is currently in the works. I guess I should post one and two at some point when I have a good pic of them. 

This person. Actually this person is me. I took a pic of myself when I was crying. That sounds weird, but I did it. Then a while later, I was looking through my pictures for reference material and found that photo and decided to use it.

freaking roses man. I will master these mofos someday, I just know it. The thing is, I've been practicing drawing roses for a couple weeks now and they leave me so confused. I want to get over the confusion and get to the point of clarity. ROSE CLARITY.

bye for now

Wednesday, January 8, 2014


herro world.

I painted this for my sister. Acrylic and fabric marker and sharpee on canvas

There's more too but I have to go do laundry now.  Later

Friday, August 23, 2013


Well it's been... kind of a difficult couple of months. My dad died July 5. And my sister just found out that she has to put her cat down.
It's weird and I'm still processing it and I feel different and I know life is different forever now. It was my birthday the other day and I went to my mom's house and my dad's absence was a huge presence. It was like the elephant in the room. Things were kinda upbeat, and every now and then we'd mention him, something he used to say. But we didn't dwell, but sometimes I just wish we would dwell. I spent the summer with my sisters and we dwelled on it together, we cried and told stories and listened to his favorite music and cooked together and drank wine, lots of wine. Then I had to leave and it's weird and isolating being around friends and people who aren't going through this. I want people to talk to about it. It's a unique, acute, different kind of pain. It's something I've never experienced before. I have known people who have died before and that hurt. But when your father's completely its own thing. It makes you think, OK so... who in this family is next then? I only have one more parent now. My mom and that's it, no one else. She was telling my sisters and I when we were with her in July where the deed to the cemetery is for when we need it when she dies. And it's like...OK I guess that's a handy thing to know, but thinking about that gives me heart palpatations and a headache and a heartache. Things are different now forever. My dear ol man is gone. I even wrote him a letter the day before he passed away. Tears pouring out of me and dotting the paper as I wrote, I wanted to tell him all the things I never said out loud to him, things like how much I love him, how he used to say the exact perfect thing to me to make me feel better about myself, like how much he influenced my appreciation for music and noticing the subtle beauty of life, and how we would laugh and laugh together, we had the same sense of humor and we would encourage each other into fits of hysterical laughter. Then the next morning I went to the mailbox (I was in Cali at the time) and dropped it in the mail. Then an hour later my mom called us to tell us he was gone. My mom wanted my sister and I to be together to talk to us so I knew a phone call was coming but it was like that song, "Don't Speak" by No Doubt where she's like I know what you're saying so please stop explaining, don't tell me 'cause it hurts, I did not want to talk on the phone and I didn't want to talk to anyone, I just wanted to walk angrily down the street crying because I didn't want to face facts.
But then I flew to CT for the funeral and my younger sis and I met up with my two other sisters and mom, and then my letter arrived a couple days later and I stuck it in my dad's suit jacket he wore at the wake and now my letter is buried next to my dad's heart.
And now he's gone but in some ways, and maybe it's a coping mechanism but in some ways I know he's not gone, I know that love goes on and one thing I learned from all this is that you are not your body. And love is eternal and I know, deep inside that he shows up every day in my life and he will always be a part of me, I will always carry him with me, forever.