Wink Wink

Don’t allow the accomplishments of the more senior members of the artistic community frighten you into stagnation, young man (i.e. the type of artist who thinks that he’s probably getting a bit older these days [as one would naturally experience while living some kind of existence as we currently know it] but wouldn’t care to complain about it to anybody in his age group, because [after all] we’re all experiencing our own contemporary struggles that leave very little room for any kind of self-actualizing, let alone exploration of forms that connect our consciousnesses to one another in the form of communal expression).

Just continue to do what you’re going to do (wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more), and the self-prescribed purpose of your toiling will eventually unveil itself. The purpose may have actually [indubitably] been there from the start, and you (the recipient of a lifetime’s worries and schematics) are only just awakening to the possibility of its interconnectedness and unbounded potential when merged with the human psyche.

Then [and only then] will you uncover the true nature of our fictitious narrative centered around the cultivation of blue cheese cultures (and please don’t ask a tedious question as to why it’s cheese over every other possible culture, we’ve heard them all, trust us).

Parlance

It’s my unrelenting plan
to escape to the future
at any time now, to a time
where the ones greeting me
want only to offer the knowledge
and dynamics of their era.

We’re all quite familiar with that little bit of
science fiction by now–the storied
advanced civilization that doesn’t so much mind
a past-person stumbling upon their developments.

Ya see, these folks would require
astute pupils for their lessons
in temporal psychology, so
if an intuitive person
were to find themselves ensconced
in such an environment,
these lovely future guardians
would instinctively root out
the nature of said snoop’s intentions–
not to mention their accent
or parlance of the time
they oh so unwittingly represent.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Drawing composed August, 2019–
rollerball pen and dry erase marker on printer paper

Harmony [VISUAL]

Suppose for a minute
that you write the odds
for this universe,
should such a position exist.

Would you change things
based on your previous experiences?
Would you consider
the entire scope and slope of existence,
careful not to upset any balances?

Whatever you do, rest assured
that something will go wrong.
That’s just how it goes, baby.

Seuss Feathers [VISUAL]

I’ve undergone a selection process with my drawings! It’s about time that I get the good ones out into the world. I’m hoping to keep sharing these fun little morsels with you while I compile my portfolio of more involved pieces.

Thanks for reading, I’ve always enjoyed sharing.

No Such Luck

Journeyman centenarian, your
squadron of sheep hurlers
begged you to curdle off the cliff
while dangling circumlindrically–
as though in a play.

No such luck.

Life is a raised platform,
gawking peanut gallery
all around, over-adorned yaps
temporarily agape
toward a permanent problem.

The plight of the talented
is wasted on the non-observant.

Retreat

This insinuative retreat right here
will find us contemplating
wellness regeneration
at the bitter end of firsts,
where we ultimately unwind
the flitting intricacies
formally acquainted with the frigid
bridges of the morn,
or what we would otherwise call
the belaying of the holy trinity
(deployment of proper parsonage,
delayment of prosperous personage).

In one word or another,
we’re all glad to be cloaked
in that vinegar-spritzer veil
associated with the sleaziest

cashier chicken spirit sprints.

Blue Fox’s Snout

Blue Inkjoy Rollerball Pen
300 Series (0.7F, Non-Gel, Non-Retractable)

Red Inkjoy Rollerball Pen
300 Series (0.7F, Non-Gel, Retractable)

on

TWONE Full Wood Paper Sketchbook
140 x 210 mm / 5.5 x 8.25″
100 gsm / 68 lb