bangobingo

[bangobingo]

As I lay here, cigarette in hand, 2 in the morning. My coughs in cadence with the bird outside chirping. The little faith I had in humanity slightly fades. My heart no longer the size it was. The sparkle diminishes and I am lost. The recluse, the hermit, the artist, all have been broken, all understand that silence is key. Wisdom is hurt. The heater turns on and like it I have given enough heat to warm others but myself. I found a stray today, outside the liquor store, black with white paws…i hurried to the fast food establishment to get nuggets to try and coheres a new friend. He growled as I tossed him a nugget between the shrubbery. Does he see my hurt, my aurora diminished. I will go in the morning again to see how he is. If he is gone I will understand more deeply who I am. A stray, astray to the wolves and sheep, just a Don Quixote with paintbrush in hand.

#personal

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“The light constantly changes, and that alters the atmosphere and beauty of things every minute.”  ~ Claude Monet

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メトロポリス (2001)

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Seeds by Gilbert Williams

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Tom Perkinson (American,b.1940)

Night Storm Over the Mesa, 2022

Watercolor and mixed media

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Anna Trochim — The Sense of Existence (oil on canvas, 2021)

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Léon Arthur Tutundjian (1905-1968) — Composition [oil, watercolor, on panel, 1927]

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Art by OHA

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Breathe in Love - Don't Smoke Cigarettes by Peter Max, 1970s.

American cancer society

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Motoi Oi (Japanese,1910-2004)

Bird & Red Flower #1, c.1970

Etching

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Anna Boberg (Swedish,1864-1935)

Northern Lights, c. 1901

oil on canvas

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Yoshitaka Amano: 'Angel's Egg' (1985)

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It is a wonderful and very strange time to be living in this current social construct which we deem reality. In so many facets of it there are whispers and sayings all while animals filter thru architecture to make nest or tunnels, and with that in mind aren’t we the animals burrowing in this infrastructure doing the same. Despite the elaborate dance we are the same. I want to be humbled again in that same regard. Small, but part of the whole. Without social infrastructures deeming what is natural or normal because I don’t think we are, if so what a sad state of affairs.

Let these strange hot dog fingers speak humbley while smoking cigarettes and painting. And let them speak that I am nothing, but a layer in the ground that will be part of a foundation more sturdy than me.

Small and strong the dung bettle perseveres on.

#personal

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Gervasio Gallardo, ''Omni'', #1, 1990 Source

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Clouds, Fogs & Mists.

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alien: romulus poster by ryan layah (@grievity on ig)