uncontaminated with thought


Sunday was a splattery day

As I paint and create I usually listen to the radio.

Sometimes a word or phrase leaks out of the radio through me onto the page.

This often gets covered up in layers of color and stuff

But the phrase ‘uncontaminated with thought’ struck me as poignant to this project

So each time it began to drown in ink and paper I kept it afloat above the layers

spare change?


Another day, another doodle. Boiled down to its rawest essence, that is my life.

Paper shapes, lurid hues, tiny detail. Different mix of familiar ingredients.

The common threads tying together the rickety vessel in which I navigate my days.

The only certainty is uncertainty.

All things must change.

This thing

The things with the dyed paper, the cut outs and torn edges, the outlining and the doodlings. The purple and orange thing that’s a little shiny in places. This thing here…

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