Trust Me

ive been working. Askren told me to put a cd together of my currents, and i also wanted to update my legions of fans on the new stuff. 

but ive been trying to load images for a half an hour now. no luck. its late and valentine's day was a wash. come back soon and see a long stream of new stuff.

crankin' 'em out

i went to my old employer, United Art & Education, to pick up two #4 United nylon brushes and a quart of good old speedball black ink. a few bucks later and i am off.

so time in the studio has given birth to many a new, small pieces. a lot. really, a lot. unless Meko offers me a one man show with everything hung salon style, ive gotta get rid of this stuff. ive been thinking of selling them cheap ($30) with a few extras; hand written note, a sticker, and a select few would get a business card sized mix cd of mp3s. 

how do i get the word out? reposting this on myspace.com/iamsick, posting it here, and whoring myself to the local crowd that thinks im an a-hole. well, im off to that too.

more later.

new, smaller series and questions of workers intent.

the last few days ive been looking for part-time stuff like crazy, but that didnt keep me from making a small table for a stereo in the studio. from that construction ive started a new series of the ink drips on smaller sheets of 100# productolith paper. the paper has the shine of commercial stock which plays well with the matte black of the ink.

at the start of the "saturday night" series it was more about gestures and control of not thinking. as things have progressed, my focus turns back to the figure. i am not so much choosing to define figurative shapes as i am using the same mark-making choices ive used in the past. there is still a struggle in the line (that i hope to god comes through in the piece) and maybe that has more to do with my concern about my tools than it does my execution. 

with the addition of a proper stereo to the space, the wall on which i work has shrunken, as well as the ceiling. another tool i am unsure of. and playing mix tapes from the late 90's only makes my heart do a slow burn. 

my primary brush is a nylon W&N #2. made for acrylics, it serves as a  fantastic ink-giver when loaded up. but my abuse/use of this one brush is taking its toll. i  whip the thing around for effects, then try to tame my own nervous energy when the sweeter, thoughtless application begins. as much as i would love a handful of bamboo brushes with the best of horse tail, dripping with some Suni as black as Russian coal, i must go with the cheap alternative of whats in the bucket. 

i need more ink. i need more brushes. i want to try this on heavier paper. huge paper is out of the question right now. too ambitious right now. im comfortable with the size right now. these things are accessible, frame ready, would look fantastic pasted on mailboxes or on doors of abandoned buildings (the second Liberty series is both rejecting and embracing street art, but more on those when theyre more done.)

i dont think just going big for the sake of scale is worth it. i need a bigger wall, anyway.

oh - primaries. how i wish it mattered. one new 25x38 piece is called "a mountain of delegates." im pretty happy my girlfriend listens to the rules and speculation and BS going on. american politics is the dirtiest, most catty-wompass, out-dated system in the world. thank god for cable? thank god for piles of paper.