Thank you

I just wanted to do a proper post thanking everyone who has been so kind and supportive when I was in a really messed-up, dark space. I kind of disappeared from everything because I’m like an armadillo or roly-poly or something, I hide when I get freaked out. I didn’t expect people to be so awesome, and I want to thank all of you amazing people once again.

Personal freakout shit.

Trigger Warning: Abuse and Depression and Anxiety and Shit.

I use a butcher tray to paint. I was thinking about buying a second one, but hey, I forgot. Butcher trays are hella awesome palettes because a bit of soaking in water and the paint lifts right up in a grody, interesting skin.

Right now, even the super-fast cleaning properties of the butcher tray isn’t fast enough. I am exhausted, emotionally, physically and mentally. I need to paint to get some kind of equilibrium set. I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon and I have no desire to.

I’ve been debating about how much of my life I should share on the internet, especially when the whole Blogging for Mental Health 2014 thing came up. That’s a whole different can of worms, though. Yesterday was horrible. I couldn’t sleep.

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I have a migraine, one which is unresponsive to advil because eff my life. Migraines are terrible. This migraine is of the ‘aaaaargh it hurts so bad I may hurl right now’ variety.

I also have a weird habit of laughing when I’m in pain and getting kind of weird and hyper and no one is amused by it so I’m taking it out on my blog. I worked through the pain most of today. I’m going to eat and watch Supernatural then pass out.

SO! Here’s what I’m working on in all its gory funky glory! Some artists call it their process, but the word process makes me think of fake cheese.

You may not want to look directly at the screen for  a while.



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Mea Culpa re: why I do things the way I do.

If you’re nosey or observant like I (sometimes) am, my online behavior may seem overly-enthusiastic or something. I disappear then reappear and do a bunch of stuff and like a bunch of stuff, then I disappear again. Maybe I’m paranoid from having grown up in that limbo where the internet wasn’t a thing, became a thing, and then people fall into a trap of obsessing over followers, likes, that kind of thing. (Thing – I have such a fantastic vocabulary) So they go around kissing each other’s asses to boost their numbers. Or maybe that’s just me. Whatever, point is, that’s absolutely not the case here.

I honestly just hit that ‘like’ button or comment when I am moved to. Not that my ‘likes’ or whatever are some special magical elixir from someone Very Important, I just don’t like the thought that I may come across as disingenuous. I appreciate what I appreciate and I try to let people know it. I’m not one to criticize art in general, but my preferences tend to run to the surreal, the natural (representational or abstracted), the political and the emotionally honest. Emotional honesty fascinates me because I’m immature and have the emotional depth of a plate.

They tend to run away from florals, abstracts, still lifes, and obsessive dedication to the aesthetics of conventional/mainstream/whatever human beauty. These are just in general. Sometimes I’ll like something because of some totally random-ass reason. Composition, color, texture, what-the-hell ever, I’m not picky. Sometimes it’ll be the vibe of the artist’s commentary or the fact that it has a dog in it. Sometimes it’s because the artist has experienced some success, like a show or a sale, and I’m happy for them.

I do it in batches because, and getting personal here, I’m dealing with an illness that can knock me on my ass for a while. I’m tempted to write about it, but it’s something that a lot of people deal with as well and legit suffer from (trust me, I know), but I’m also kind of a jackass when it comes to writing about my own stuff and I have a screwed up sense of humor about it. So while *I* find what I think about it funny or worthy of snark, I’m pretty sure a lot of people who deal with the same thing and their loved ones may be hurt. Or maybe they’ll relate. Either way, maybe, maybe not, point is, sometimes I curl into a tiny ball of ‘eeeeew’ and just do what I gotta do, then when I’m up to it I pop online and go all over the internets. So that’s why, if I follow you or you post more often, you might get a random batch of a ton of ‘likes’ from me and I promise, I really really really like your stuff and you’re kind of awesome.

I guess that’s just about what I wanted to say.


January 18: Casting a Fire Ant Colony with Molten Aluminum (Cast #043)

Beautiful! Echoing the invasive species comment from the post I reblogged this from.

Life in a Minor Key

Kids, don’t try this at home. For that matter, the same goes for adults.

For those who object to the destruction of the colony, let me just say that fire ants are an invasive species. Wikipedia has this to say about the ones infesting the southern US:

The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) estimates more than US$5 billion is spent annually on medical treatment, damage, and control in RIFA-infested areas. Further, the ants cause approximately US$750 million in damage to agricultural assets, including veterinary bills and livestock loss, as well as crop loss.[44]

On the whole, I’d rather see art than poison as a result of their eradication. Considering over 23 million viewers have watched (fascinated? horrified?), there must be something to the method in this madness.

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That Which We Are Made Of (WIP, Finished Grisaille)

Hello people out there and new followers! Despite being quite under the weather and subsequently extremely lethargic (think a sloth with cable, books and a blanket), I’ve finally finished the grisaille of a fairly large 24 X 30″ canvas. I posted a snapshot of the part that that I didn’t want to light on fire back then, which happened to be the section with flowers. There’s a lot more to it than flowers now.


Like a ribcage sans intercostal cartilage and the body and xiphoid process of the sternum because of ~artistic license~, i.e., an effort not to cover up the bird and over-complicate an already complicated composition. Also, vertebrae and pelvic cradle. Flowers. The rest of a person. Clouds. I’m kind of strange.

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