Oh, go 'way, go 'way.......I have dreams to construct. My own BOOR me. I can't fly anymore or have dalliances with beautiful actresses or chase off giant Christmas caroling spiders....go 'way. Go to your big screen TV, your chicken wings, watch your little sports shows. Your master, the cult of personality beckons...You're not worthy to come here....g'won, get....I won't put pants on for you or make toast. I don't feel like explaining things. Go 'way, just.....go 'way..............
No No, Honey
I grew up entertained by the record album covers of the 60's & 70's. Later, it was books containing art by mental patients. Well, I says, that looks like fun.. Thus, after experimenting with drawing and painting in academia, I started collecting found-objects and began constructing left-handed salutes to bourgios bric-a-brac. Then came explaining people's personalities not by two-dementional (sic) representations, but three. Then, not just personalities, but imagery from the threshold of sleep and daydreams. A hobby that begs more questions than answers. What a sin to let an idea stagnate. You want pretty? Go to Hallmark's.
Weird Scenes Inside the Coal Mine. . . .
Would it kill you To Smile?
The Brainforest Egosystem......