Friday, November 13, 2009


an exhibition I was in.
Which i didn't attend
I'm a slack cunt.

Monday, November 9, 2009


I was asked to describe my drawing style in haiku for an interview.
This is what I came up with.

Sullen teenage girls
Smoking themselves to death
with unborn children

What if Tank Girl got
An inferiority
complex and gained weight?

Leukemia kids
Don't frolic in meadows
They shoot themselves

Saturday, November 7, 2009


I've been talking to strangers on cubicle walls.
Shedding clothes and inhibitions behind closed doors
where these omnipotent social mores which have a hold of us
give a hint of the feeble, inconsequential man behind the curtain.
Intimacy is paramount.


Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying beautiful things as much as I do. Makes human contact quite unfulfilling comparatively.
I will never love a boy as much as I love fiction.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009


I've been lustin' for an era of great depression and dust storms since reading Woody Guthrie's autobiography.
Disaster is beautiful.
There are no exceptions.

Monday, November 2, 2009


but she sure aint no Calle.
(performence piece for uni)


Her sweat will turn to hoarfrost. Slowly weighted she will cease to run and not be seen till spring.
(We turned into a frozen medow, the wind the only sound. 'We'll know where when we get there' you said)