Reality Check/Lucid Dream. Gansai and Acrylic on Arches paper.

December happenings. The weather has been "nice"... or in other words, warm. Great for hiking. Not so great for Christmas weather. 

 Works on Yupo paper.

The Repository. Watercolor, ink, graphite, and acrylic. 2025.

Weekend images.

The Holiday Art Market. I really appreciate everything the Pittsburg Arts Council does to create artful events in our community.

Forms of communication in Texas

Otherworldly

Desarmillaria Tabescens/Ringless Honey Mushrooms. Watercolor and Ink on Arches paper

Eureka springs

I had forgotten that I had slapped this sticker of one of my old paintings onto this vintage vending machine in Eureka Spring at some point in the distant past. It’s still holding up. Fun to run into, like an old friend.

What Kind of Times are These

By Adrienne Rich

I won't tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods

meeting the unmarked strip of light—

ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:

I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear.

Colostrum. Watercolor, Ink and Gouache, 2021.

Well, I’ll be damned… I was watching a random YouTube video tonight about an American woman who moved to Chengdu, China (“I Left The U.S. For China - Here’s How Much It Costs”) and during her apartment tour, I noticed a print of my painting, Colostrum, on her wall. I don’t know what the odds are of seeing my own work randomly in someone’s house across the world on a YouTube video, but I would think they would be astronomical. I’m going to take it as a sign to move abroad.

False Prophets, Analog Collage.

Thought Crimes

“But he was a father”

They say, as if the limbo bar of

having had at some point

lost control inside the body of a woman

makes a man more valuable

As if we should care more about Saddam Hussein for this reason or

many other a large-mouthed and small-minded

little gunstroker

Shameless arrogance a

Hot honey burn on the roof of the mouth,

a regretful meditation

Some have no one to make a meal for

they lock their watery eyes in the mirror

stroke their victimhood gently in the dark,

each reflection congratulating the other 

on their shared capacity for callousness.

Come now, 

As a fellow spitting cobra who

Overate my savory dinner

Normally a straight venom shooter

I am also quietly unsettled by 

Esophageal recoil at 3am 

Belly distended, uneasy 

Aren’t we all fragile and imperfect beings?

Our collective thread, vulnerable 

Tired and soft-skinned

Butter aftertaste

---

"Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorn bushes, or figs from thistles? So, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. So, by their fruits you will recognize them." - Matthew 7:15-20

I made a few little mushroom paintings on panels that will be for sale at Pittsburg Artwalk this Saturday, along with prints and some other originals. These are all based on mushrooms found while hiking.

Prairie State Park

 

A few cyanotypes from last summer and some recent September mushrooms.