Things will seem to go OK, when suddenly they’ll stop,
. Face in the dirt, there I lay-then poof! I am up top.
. This brain of mine, this machine, that whirrs inside my head,
. Makes the bells and whistles ding even when I lay in bed.
. I need relief, some way, some how, to quiet racing thoughts,
Instead they throw some pills at me to make me who I’m not.
I always knew I would wind up alone,
. Now that it happened, now that I’ve grown…
. It’s the worst pain I’ve ever known.
. Can you see me going mad in here?
. Can you hear me? Can you, Dear?
. There’s a slim chance, if you hurry,
. That all the scary things will scurry,
. That the sky will clear, the rain will stop-
. And once again I’ll be on top.







9 x 11 Marker on Board




This image is under regular light, the source overhead. I enjoy adding a little hidden dialogue to the painting, that the viewer has to work for, and think about. For instance, rather than wishing on a star, our little lady on the far right edge of the painting is puking on one…Oh, and is that star on the forehead of a fallen statue that we are all so familiar with? (Let the viewer use discernment).
This is a fun little painting. I am showing you a detail here of the upper left quadrant of the piece. So much to see, so little time! and now , without further adieu, I give you this :
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