semigod

PaperMate Killa...A 10 minute thriller.the doctor is in and no one is iller..marching faces and foreign places,run for your life from mechanical embraces.He wishes upon the soft powder that falls from the mushroom and eats of it at noon.Later that night a sight is seen that cant be unseen.Palid blank eyes and the innuendo of two.A night spent shuckin and duckin from false ghosts where the night clapped loudly for our performance.A dead stare and a cyberwall.Licanthropic split personalities accompany the sleeping bride.Plug in to the electric.At a tree near the wall the artist speaks without using words and the tree speaks back.A fiction of cruxi is sold to the lowest bidder and the squatter is a one hitter quitter.

Devices of unspecified nature.mechanized robotized maldoers.A phallicitious display of patriotism.The contents of ones nature displayed fully.The wanting of the diseased all come for the reluctant hero.At a time of day all things turn topsy turvy and Elenor becomes the watcher.Mostly for self gratification.M is her name forever in the song with bolts and pistons to walk all along.At 2 pm the sleep hits nice.Is it a stick up scene of the most obscene? The split man says try again later.Can you mind the house when it is the self? Maybe on a train we can remain the same..or maybe alone we might find home.

Pen/Pencil

These images were all created using PaperMate pens,pencils and Prismacolor colored pencils on paper.

I first started drawing at around age 5.I lived with my grandma and her sons (my uncles).The youngest uncle was 7 years older than me and he used to draw. I cant remember what it was he used to draw but I wanted him to teach me how to draw.I remember wanting to be like him I thought he was cool then,I still think hes cool.

Right before he was off to school or work or something that had him leaving for hours,he would make a pencil sketch on a piece of white paper and leave these instructions with me."When I come back I want to see an exact replica of what I have drawn here"where hed point to another blank paper. I felt like I had just been given a very important assignment and couldnt wait to get started.He showed me how to copy his work line by line,not tracing but making a duplicate of it off to the side, one mark at a time."Look at a line on my paper and make the exact same line on yours,look over to mine,look to the next line and make the exact one on yours" and on and on

I would wait for him to close the door on his way out and Id sit at the living room table.With my pencil or pen Id begin drawing away using my "lessons"and I remember feeling like I had just been entrusted with something important.I knew my work would be evaluated when he got back and I wanted to impress him.He would always praise my work when hed get back and in the next year I got very good at copying his sketches.I branched out to doing my own drawings and always enjoyed the place drawing took me.For those couple of hours while drawing,I would be transported away from my surroundings and into the piece of paper.The blank piece of paper could be any place,anything..my own teleport machine.For a dirt poor kid,drawing to me was a wonder filled get-away.

I remember those first lessons every time I am drawing something from reference.