When my body is in motion , hands at work, legs moving towards something- time becomes just an idea. The linear time line of life stops and I am just being. It's when I stop and cannot find peace in the silence that Time starts up again, and the tick tocking of life goes on. It's like waking from a dream to find myself stranded in the middle of a desert with no seemingly way out. I find myself at a strange place and time in my life where time to do things is plentiful, but resources to do them are sparse, and like waking from an ironic dream, I find myself in a desert- good old Tucson AZ.

The idea was to work part time at a job and work part time as an artist. And that worked for awhile, but my well has dried up and I've got nothing- no motivation, no desire- no ambition- nada. Writers block only "painter's block". But the creative itch is still there- and it burns like a bad rash. So I do this thing called "exorcising my demons"; meaning, when I see something creative, something that I think I might be able to do- I do it. I do it like it's an obsession until that well dries up (or the resources) and then I move on to something new. The object of this game is to create art but not spend any or as little money as possible- to use what I already have. And the funny thing is, no matter how much crap I have laying around the house, and no matter how many projects I do with that crap, there is always more crap in the end. It's the whole milk in cereal bowl scenario. I keep thinking that one day I will wake up and look in my art room to find that my shelves are empty and need restocking. But so far this has not been the case.

We've all heard the phrase "I could do that" when it comes to art and artists- but I am finding that this is not always the case. When I chase my creative demons around the block I realize a couple of things. One- damn, that's harder than it looks- or two; yeah, I can do that, but do I want to? Passion is the element that can raise the level of art to a whole new level.

So where am I? I have no idea, only that I am in a desert with little resources trying to grow a bountiful garden with what I have.

Reading The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson captivated me when I was young and even now as I’m in my 30’s the story remains hauntingly beautiful. From the cover it looked innocent enough, but the story is a tangled web of one-sided love, misery and misunderstandings, the hope to rise above, and ultimately in the end sacrifice. Despite the fantastical creatures, this was not a child’s tale but an adult one.

For a long time I wanted to change the ending to make it happy for the main character, despite the dire consequences of doing so. But as I grew up I began to realize that although it’s sad in a love story- it ends with a glimmer of hope. She released herself from unrequited love to find complete freedom in herself. Essentially, she gave into love. The whole book is about transforming from one thing into another; mermaid into human, human into wind. It’s about how love can transform you from one thing to another- it could be good or it could be bad, it all lies in the choices we make.

I do not think mermaids are innocent creatures but rather beautifully cruel selfish ones. They are the essential female vanity.

I cannot look at a mermaid image without thinking about that book. Ever since I finished the last page to “The Little Mermaid” I no longer see the mermaid as being a child’s character- a drawing of happiness and innocence. I see her as a cruel tragedy- a sea myth that carries beauty and death like inseparable twins.

She waves “hello” as well as “goodbye” in the same breath to those lost at sea.

That's right- Stuff it. Consume it. Eat it. Life happens between meals and commercials- Dirty TV trays and the race to finish first begins the moment the food hits the plate. Smacking lips & eye envy. As a child, me and my two brothers would have to turn off the TV and sit at the dinner table as a family. Well, that meant eat fast and jump back to the couch the fastest you could if there was something good on- and the commercials were essential for doing the after dinner chores. Nowadays with Tevo and Roku and pause buttons that can stay paused for ever- well, I still find myself rushing to eat, rushing to consume- as though meal time and watching what is in my Instant Queue is just another chore on my list of "to do's" while the clock tic toc's down.

I have to admit that sometimes I kinda miss commercials- it's much easier to get up and do something when a commercial comes on then to intentionally push a pause button. Then again, the luxury of watching what you want when you want, is sweet cupcakes in my mouth. The TV no longer controls me- no, now I have the upper hand as well as having not one remote, but 5. (Good lord, whose controlling who? And where did my self control and will go to? )

In efforts to convey the thoughts in my head I decided to do a small series of collages to purge my mind- or exorcize my demons. Strangely doing these made me want to curse a lot as well as be vulgar- I imagine this is how I will be when I’m old and senile.

 This piece is called- “Go away bad shit- stop smiling at me”. I’m still in denial about being an adult and owning a house, and it seems to me that recently we (Andy & I) have been living from one disaster to another. Yes, it’s the end of the world when the sink is plugged up or the hot water doesn’t work. These small disasters- much like getting work done on my car is a whole world that I am not familiar with. It is a dark place where voodoo and karma fight it out. I am sure these things happen because I curse in the car towards the idiot pedestrians that walk across traffic when they are 10 feet away from a crosswalk. Or because I never tip a barista for coffee they just pour in a cup- or I avoid eye contact with the dirty man in the median with a hungry sign (I’m kinda wondering if that limp was a fake).

            Regardless- whether these disasters happen because of karma, or because my house is old or because it’s just life- I’m pretty sure if disasters had a face, they’d be smiling at us.