Ode to Barthes

Gestures

The Return, and death to the line

Il Popolo di Barga

Barga, Italy...miei amore.

Ciao New York!

photo etching in sienna and engraving in ruby red on nice smooth amazing hand made paper

Barga, Italy

the alchemy of intaglio

Leaving My Island

I have decided to say bye bye to HuiPress and Maui, I want to do some serious running around the globe. But before I go I am curating an exhibition at this knock-out wine bar/ gallery which I began exhibiting in a year ago. I will post more images of the opening event.

trip ticks, drip tricks

The Gateless Gate

a lot of Fiery Furnaces

Feburary was pleaseing

reflections of shite

Bird flu makes everyone sick

the last image is my first plate litho print.

the suffering gives me air

self

My conceptual hell

dark moodssssss

all good men

man & life

Thank you, Lewis Carroll

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

'Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!'

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

poor kierkegaard

passion for passion

post Christian world

grasshopper

mutterings of a tempermental mind

Where do memories go?

impenetrable perceptions

Sense of Toe ch

Paradise Lost

Reality and Creating

and playing a lot...

i wander around, and around and around. strange land. one world.

Here I am at home, here I have discovered me.

Logic Robots

im not waiting, im not even wanting

how do you know, you know?

existing
only in
expression

iron that comes from the core

sometimes i sit and paint and and stare into idealism

I missed the bus today, it was a little like missing freedom. I stopped going round and round and finally rearranged. The Russians are coming! The immortal Gods of literature.

nothing

dead bird

three