Someone called me a narcosis and said it was weird because I did a few self portraits and have them hanging on the my wall (theses are paintings)... but, that person has hundreds of photographs of himself taken by himself, and every time he passes a shinny surface he has to stop and look at himself... and I'm a narcosis? I think this is one of those pot calling the kettle black thingies.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
New Portrait
Someone called me a narcosis and said it was weird because I did a few self portraits and have them hanging on the my wall (theses are paintings)... but, that person has hundreds of photographs of himself taken by himself, and every time he passes a shinny surface he has to stop and look at himself... and I'm a narcosis? I think this is one of those pot calling the kettle black thingies.
Monday, April 11, 2011
van Gogh Me
So... I was out and about late last night, when I came across this guy painting. I stopped to look and he started talking to me with a heavy accent I couldn't place. We talked for hours about life, love and the overwhelming dread and loneliness of depression. It felt like the weight of the world was on us, I couldn't help but cry. He handed me his brush and a blank canvas, so I started to paint. The gloom started to lift as the paint touched the canvas. I knew... only in painting would the doom end. When the encounter was over I asked him his name. All he said was Vincent and then he was gone. I looked at the painting before me. This is what I found.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
