i sometimes lay the piece down on the floor to look at it, and then i start walking around it, then i will walk on the piece itself. then my feet turn purple, or green or whatever.
time is still a luxury.
i really wanted to finish another one this afternoon, but it looks like i won't have time before work. maybe i should hire a stunt double to handle certain tasks . a midget one...do you think anyone would notice if i had a midget stunt double? they'd be all like "hey man, does he look shorter than usual today?" "nah, he's always been that short..."
then i could spend my days breathing paint fumes or riding my bike
it may look like chaos, but every single fucking drop, splotch, scrape, splash and slash is there by design. my heart and soul go fully into each piece, along with sweat, blood and even some tears. i destroy all of my brushes, so i never buy nice ones and i use mostly whatever kind of material i can find - i despise paying for art supplies - especially canvas. thursday trash night is when i do most of my shopping. building value is a great source for materiel as well. the filth of the city is one of my muses and i am obsessed with her dirty little secrets as well as her crumbling infrastructure. on the other hand, i love nature - especially when nature reclaims what man has wrought - trees growing through the cracks in the concrete of an abandoned reservoir, a hawk's nest in a burned-out church steeple or a root pushing a sidewalk out of place.
