Out of the Gutter Art
Outrageous Bipolar Expressions
Category: PTSD
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I eat a lot of my art. Great flow, free strokes, endless imagination…stuffed in my spare bedroom. “What spare bedroom?” You have a right to ask, especially when the door is always shut, the cat box takes center stage, there is no sign of any bed and the entire perimiter is taken up with painted…
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Stuck in the Barnyard “OLD McDONALD HAD A COMMISSION…Oh no, Oh no, Oh no……” So, I had a “Patron”, and I am envisioning a relationship similar to Michaelangelo had with The Pope.. Endless coffers, freedom of expression in my own magnificent style, expensive dining and and more and more projects to work on. What a…
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“He bandaged my broken hands that had beaten down my own hopes…”
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“…I was a rebel…not knowing thousands of feet had gone down that same road days…months…centuries before…”
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Who Was I Then? Am I Now? Who Will I Become? I know that we change, it is a natural thing. I’m not hung up on the aging process… the CREATIVE PROCESS is where my interest lies. My creative life ebbs and flows like the ocean, like my moods, like my illness… Must I always…
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…Random Words, Targeted Pain….Red, Yellow, Green and Brown Pain…White Pain…My Pain…
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“…a drive to put what is playing on my internal projector out into the real world, for others to see…”
Out of the Gutter Art 