T-Minus 13 Days

13 days until my solo show opens at Gallery 138.

With the clock ticking down, I am beginning to go into a weird lackadaisical overdrive. A chicken missing it’s feet and flopping about on it’s side, spurting blood here and there, will, I suppose, get something done, whether it’s considered productive or not, is another matter entirely. Not to say that I’m missing my feet, but I am most certainly a chicken.

I had a dream last night that my girlfriend and I were running Barack Obama’s presidential campaign. We were doing horribly. Fucking up left and right, we had a team of scraggly college volunteers planning everything and I spent most of the dream thinking,
“Fuck! This isn’t going to work! We’re going to lose”

My girlfriend thinks that I’m having anxiety about the show, worrying that no one will show up, that it will be a flop, etc.

My guess is that she, as usual, is right.
Dead right.
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New idea for video series:
Convulsions, seizures, fits

Here are some preliminary sketches.

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