I’m powerless in the grip of an old friend
a toothless jagged junkie
come to boil broken flakes of me over a sad flame
I envy those in coma, the ones allowed to dream
it’s seventh grade all over again
and its painful and apparent
that one step up is two steps back
I wake to the sound of violent vomiting
I wake to the smell of burning amphetamines
I wake to an empty head, & sometimes un-empty bed
I scream and sing and drink myself into a corner
I mumble and bungle and smoke myself into bed
and my friend is always with me
always holding my head
craning my neck
twisting my arms

clearing the stairs for my decent
thumpity thumpity thump thump thump

power hungry black-hole
powder blue unattainable sky
quick like lightening
sweet like ignorance
desperate like a doorknob
singing in the gallows

So, now I’ve got to go to bed every night wondering if the Vatican is after me.  Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallow be thy name…

Commissioned by Sal Luna, this and a couple other drawing has definitely been the most challenging, must fun work I’ve had in a long time: really forcing me into some new positions of yoga creatively speaking. Can’t wait to see the 3D rendered versions!

… but isn’t it TASTY!

This design disturbinglly reminds me of another work of art I can’t quite put my finger on. Black Flag? NIN? It’s driving me nuts. That’s the problem with having a vision of something in your head before you create it every time. Sometimes I draw on images back there in the cranial database, without even realizing it. Could be totally an amalgamation of things I’ve seen over the years, rendered vague enough to seem like something new, until it’s actually drawn out. Then I’m left feeling this uneasy tip-of-my-tongue sensation that I’ve seen it before. Maybe it’s original after all…

It’s rough out there folks.

On a better note. Great leaps in progress have been made on the iPhone app I’ve been helping my supremely excellent webhost, Gabriel Serafini, out with. So, watch out Tapulous, people today’s Guitar Hero copycat is tomorrows Koala Pad (which I loved by the way).

More samples (sigh)

because apparently, the Harley Davidson people prefer a “Marilyn Monroe” type of pin up girl. Their loss, although it may save me explaining myself to a certain East Bay gal who may or may not have been inspiration for this design (you know who you are)

Kind of a strange thing designing for someone post-mortum; makes the process seem more important, the necessity for substance greater. Not that I ever listen to the Ramones, but doing a design in memory of someone cast a different mood, and makes a person think about their own mortality, and how they’ll be remembered