The land of Oz(lyn) is filled with colors and scribbles and life. Sometimes we catch her staring at one of my paintings. That is the greatest compliment I have ever received. To capture the mind of someone that is only days old with artwork inspired in part by them… full circle. When you get older I hope you stop and stare at everything. Take it all in and take none of it for granted. Add your touch to what moves you. Be inspired! I don’t want you to ever have to grow up, but when you do… I can’t wait to see your world. What will the land of Oz look like?
Can’t keep this up, we’re all getting sick. Sick and tired of the bullsh*t. Guns don’t kill people, people kill people… WHAT! If people didn’t have the guns to use to kill others we wouldn’t have these problems. Now, thanks to guns being available to just about anyone, there are families who are missing something this holiday season. Missing out on the unconditional love from their children. Missing the joy on those faces as they open up Santa’s gifts. Missing a piece of their hearts. Missing a piece of their souls. Something they created. Something they loved from deep within. There is no gun that can get that back for them.
As long as there are guns, there will be violence. Whether it be protecting your homes, schools or freedoms people will die. Guns are for cowards. We shouldn’t have these kinds of problems in our society today. This isn’t the Wild Wild West so put the cowboys and Indians games to rest.
Hold on to your loved ones a little tighter this year. Tell them you love them. Share peace and love because it is infectious. If we love each other the right way we can all live together in peace.
This piece of art will change throughout time because you have been a part of it. It will change when you move and when it is moved. It is timeless and will be historic. Just walk by it and see for yourself. Stop and look into it. Don’t blink or you will miss it.
I’ve got an angel. She doesn’t wear any wings. She wears a heart that can melt my own. She wears a smile that can make me wanna sing. She gives me presents, with her presence alone. She gives me everything I could wish for. She gives me kisses on the lips just for coming home. She could make angels. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You gotta be careful when you’ve got good love. Cause the angels will just keep on multiplying. ~Jack Johnson / Angel
Last month, last weeks, last days, last call for inspiration. Last time I watched your bio I found more direction. Your directions have lasted longer than your life, but your life will last longer than time. This time your inspiration has brought me to make a portrait of you… in your dedication. Feeling your vibrations through ink and paint. Feeling your inspiration through days and time… I wait… for more.
I had my palm read and it said… what lies in your future is already in your head, you just don’t know it yet. You’ve gotten everything you’ve been searching for, look around you and you’ll see it. You’ll get your palm trees, beach hut and board. You’ll live in the sun with the sand and the ocean, but you’ve got to earn it. If you still want it when the time comes then it will be yours. Stay patient, stay focused and live for today. Your tomorrows will show up at your door when you least expect them to.
Searching for normal is like searching for rainbow striped unicorns. In this world it… they… just don’t exist. In this year… it has just disappeared. In the next few days… it will just get more weird. This is normal. My normal. What? Rainbow striped unicorns don’t exist? Life has been happening in so many different ways. Seems like the yesterdays are getting further and further way. Will I be bored if I don’t paint and draw and paint and…? Are you sure they aren’t real? My brother’s friend said he saw one once. Going crazy over the end. Going crazy over the future. Going crazy is keeping me sane. Going crazy is finding a rainbow striped unicorn and trying to tame it. I knew they were real.
Streets covered in peanut butter with pieces of bread jumping out of building windows. Wheat, oat-nut, white and rye. Rye? Why rye? Why not multi-grain or potato? Whatever… She walks slow because her feet keep getting stuck under bits of peanuts. Yes, the streets are cover in chunky peanut butter, not creamy. Toasters line the sidewalks waiting to get a hold of falling slices only to find that their cords are unplugged. She finds a butter knife sitting on top of the left spout of a fire hydrant. Finally she has the key to freedom. How many sandwiches does a person have to eat to get out of here? And where the hell is the fluff?
See it now the end is near. Looking back through the year. Started with some house paint and a dare. Splashing colors down without a care. See it now, so it will be. Visualize it right in front of me. Something new every single day. Some kind of art, something to say. Never felt so prolific, so inspired, so… appreciative. Motivations coming from every direction. New friends, new fans, new… life. See it now the end is near. See it in front of me so clear. One whole year… of art. One whole year… of inspiration. Thank you for your patience. For your dedication. For your insight and your motivation. I can see it now, so it will be. See it right in front… of me.
Go back. Back to, when I was two and drew too. Not too much to do. The essence of my being is being able to… draw. I would draw and draw and draw the things that I saw. A stick figure person or a finger print tree, a boat, an apple… a bee. I went through crayons like seconds go through minutes go through hours into days. I would sit there and draw for days. So, I take it back to the essence and grace you with the presence of this skinless lizard-like menace. He might live in this house or out in these woods. He’s been in the making as these days have turned into years. And now finally… finally… he is here.
This is [not] my War[hol] art. I’m not the one who took the photo or wrote the text in black print. I pulled this page from a book called Hippie. But in what some might consider Warhol fashion, I made this. I drew the lines over the face that is Warhol. I circled the specific words in the text to create new sentences. I added the style, colors and the new message that this page now has. Warhol took a can of Campbell’s Tomato Soup and made it a famous piece of art. I took Warhol and made him a part of my 365 days of art. Thanks for the inspiration Andy.
Feeling claustrophobic, pressure grips lungs. No air, can’t breathe. Fight it. Feeling a bit forgetful, can’t remember to… can’t remember what I can’t remember. Layers of me shed, fall to the ground. Can’t breathe. Fight it. I’m upside down choking on stale air. Sunshine. Boom… for real. Basquiat. Scribble. Positivity. Almost there. Nobody really wants to be famous, but I might… fight it. Counting down the days. Counting down the pieces. Counting… counting. Fighting…
Follow the trends. Read the new best sellers. Listen to what the radio tells you to. Watch American Idol. Buy the latest iPhone. Go to the mall. Pay for over priced movies. Wear skinny jeans, with black framed glasses, a flannel and a floppy knit hat. Stay at a resort on your vacation to Jamaica, sit by the pool with a drink, eat at the buffet and don’t step foot into a culture you’ve never seen before. Furnish your home at IKEA couches, beds, lamps, rugs, chairs, shelves, mirrors, plants, cutlery… don’t forget to have some Swedish meatballs in the cafeteria. Grab a Dunkin Donuts coffee on your way to Walmart and when you’re exhausted and hungry after all of the bargain shopping you did head over to T.G.I. Fridays for some home cookin’. Or… don’t.
Down the street you can hear her scream you’re a disgrace as she slams the door in his drunken face. And now he stands outside and all the neighbors start to gossip and drool. He cries oh, girl you must be mad. What happened to the sweet love you and me had? Against the door he leans and starts a scene and his tears fall and burn the garden green. And so castles made of sand fall in the sea, eventually…
A little Indian brave who before he was ten played war games in the woods with his Indian friends. And he built up a dream that when he grew up he would be a fearless warrior Indian Chief. Many moons passed and more the dream grew strong until tomorrow he would sing his first war song and fight his first battle. But something went wrong, surprise attack killed him in his sleep that night. And so castles made of sand melt into the sea, eventually…
There was a young girl, whose heart was a frown cause she was crippled for life and she couldn’t speak a sound. And she wished and prayed she could stop living. So she decided to die. She drew her wheelchair to the edge of the shore and to her legs she smiled you won’t hurt me no more. But then a sight she’d never seen made her jump and say, “Look a golden winged ship is passing my way.” And it really didn’t have to stop, it just kept on going…
And so castles made of sand slips into the sea, eventually…
Preacherman don’t tell me, Heaven is under the Earth. I know you don’t know what life is really worth. It’s not all that glitters is gold. Half the story has never been told. So now you see the light, eh! Stand up for your rights. Come on!
Most people think, Great God will come from the skies. Take away everything and make everybody feel high. But if you know what life is worth. You will look for yours on Earth. And now you see the light. You stand up for your rights. Jah!
We sick and tired of- your ism-skism game – Dyin’ ‘n’ goin’ to Heaven in-a Jesus’ name, Lord. We know when we understand. Almighty God is a living man. You can fool some people sometimes. But you can’t fool all the people all the time. So now we see the light… Stand up for your right!