T-minus 33 Days
February 25, 2008
33 days until my solo show opens at Gallery 138.
Today was one of the least productive days of my entire life. I can feel the pressure creeping up on me and it makes me want to cut the living shit out of my arm. I was supposed to paint tonight but nothing doing, just couldn’t do it. Brookie says that I shouldn’t be shy with what I write. That I should let it all hang out. Smash the little bits up with the big. Glass and ground fireworks in the fillings of the the patients. Want to match all the colors of a hot dog with fleshburn tones.
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I just love the way it beads up on the top of the skin. Lovely little pools, connected with thin red lines, blotting together at the gravity points.
Haven’t received the postcards yet. Waiting for them to arrive, so I can spread that disease every which way. Love the way her skin looks like it melted off her face. Like someone pitched battery acid all over the place. Her former ghostself reflected in the cloud of dried liquid next to her. So beautiful.
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