Day 136

Free-floating dread, and a knot in the pit of my stomach SaveSave


Day 133

Fuck off.    

Day 126

Fog. Miasma. Adumbration. "Only in the freedom of our speaking with one another does the world, as that about which we speak, emerge in its objectivity and visibility from all sides." -- Hannah Arendt

Day 125

Straight outta D.C.... It's the Paul Ryan shred. Dancing wild and Ayn Rand ferocious to the beat of squash, smash, flatten, trample, and stomp.

Day 122

These days, if I am not drawing, which has been feeling up-close, weighty, and like my body is scribbled into the mix, more often than not my hands seem to want to rip, shred, and wad their way to a composition. I went down to the studio this afternoon with the intention of painting, but the brush felt too soft. The... Continue Reading →

Day 119

A few nuggets from the day: "Unless this story has a second act, McCarthy and Ryan will stick to the explanation that their Putin-paying-Trump speculation was meant to be a joke. But even if that part of the conversation had never happened, the rest of it, and the later briefing with Obama officials, tell a... Continue Reading →

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