heaven or hell

it’s probably a big mistake to be pressing these keys right now
there are so many things pressing inside my chest
is it possible to come out of this
as one person with one dream
when everything leading up to the dream is fantasy
the impressionists began as an anonymous group
maybe I could be unknown
a founding member of the “what the hell” group
we could laugh and never care
about anything until we have to
and at that point we’d only need worry about two options
no more than that
heaven or hell
I’d simply select
which ever one has the best wine list
and maybe a tattoo parlor

Angel Cone

drinking in hell

pumping oxygen into shriveled dreams
is this what Faust meant to do
sell his pre-owned soul to the devil
in exchange for impractical objects
now if I were to barter with the devil
I’d trade ‘him’ something shiny and new
a cold case of shimmering champagne
that devil and I would squat on a charred out stump
we’d rest back to back
and have ourselves a fancy drink
a sparkling bubbly chilled to perfection
no stem glasses
coffee mugs – it’s hot down there
while chewing on the nuances of life
and spitting out bygone results
the devil would get high on evaporating ice
I’d giggle from fizz leaping into my nose
we’d sling back a few 

until finally
the devil clears his throat and makes an unusual request

rather than stoking my pre-owned soul
or sucking down a fab case of fine French
‘he’d’ ask one thing –
to forever hear my giggle
I’d smile and whisper gravelly, trying to sound like Demi Moore
Mr. Devil, it you’d like to hear my giggle for all eternity
you must love life in a way
that will melt your horns
fade your alizarin crimson hide to Valentine pink
and break hell apart
into chunks smaller than Red Hots
if you can accomplish this
I’ll giggle for you, Mr. Devil
until my endless tears of joy
fill up that old giant hell hole

little diablo

little diablo

 

boiling blood

boiling blood
coagulates like milk
clogging thoughts
thwarting permeation
to the heart

raging senses
flame anxiety
heat depression
lacerate hope
undernourishment
of the mind
as blood thickens
the heart hardens

like curdling milk
the soul sours
until

no contentment
in cool flowing breezes
only writhing anger
in hot spiraling winds

animated refuse

animated refuse

……………………………………………….the tunnel

want it bad?
it’s deep down

you might reach it
crawling on hands and knees
’til they bleed
stumble through the deafening black
clawing and scraping at the tight walls
fingernails ripping off
the tunnel
doesn’t use up life
it just takes time
yours
a beastly eternity
if you make it all the way
shield your eyes
get back on your feet
the light is blinding
but fragrantly warm
now suck in that lucid sky
there’s not much time
the
next shadowless passage
is just over
the horizon
arnold pumpkinquickie sketch, was going to do a whole tunnel concept – truth be told – housecleaning day – damn 😉

A Lesson from the Devil

My Friends,
I’m experiencing a self-imposed studio sequester (say that 3 times fast) and will be for the foreseeable future. Most of you lovely folks who visit here with me know I’d like to someday utter, “Yes, I’m published.” Well, I’m digging in my hooves and applying the only magic I know – persistent work. Feeding my family be damned (kidding, of course).

As I create the many monsters for my project, I’m learning or rather that is remembering as I proceed: If you rush or overwork your art, have a trusty garbage receptacle nearby. My trashcan is named Wandel.

There is a point where one must change direction but I can be bull-headed. When an idea in my head isn’t translating to paper, I often waste too much time trying to make the unworkable work. And then, when I’ve invested so much effort, what is the next logical step? Of course, trying to make it work. When Wandel starts talking to me, I know it’s over. I feed him a delicious snack of paper and scribble. He’s most thankful and I must begin again. In the end, I always get something better. It’s the letting go of what didn’t work that never gets easy.

I share with you below a failed attempt at a Jersey Devil. I’m too embarrassed to share the previous renderings which were worse. The Jersey Devil is supposed to be a winged half-man and half-horse creature (according to some eyewitness accounts). After several iterations of trying to create an original looking character, I gave up and fell prey to an easier approach. What I got was a red Pegasus with a migraine. I keep this unfinished devil nearby to remind me: Wandel needs to watch his weight and I shouldn’t feed the trashcan so much.

One can learn much from a devil 😉
bad devil pegasusThank you. May you dream of angelic devils who dispense sage advice.

Monsters

Dear Friends,
I wish monsters were only make-believe. I wish creatures were products of our imaginations and nothing more. I wish demons were child’s play. I wish dark entities were the stuff of fantasies. I wish, wishes worked. I’d wish for the host of maniacal characters to return to the pages they escaped from. Then perhaps once the planet was freed of its corroded anchors, it might float into an era of renewed hope.

Skunk Ape:FL Thank you. May you dream of realized wishes…
Skunk Ape created in 2009 for a monster project.