painting
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You loyal readers (and thank you very much) probably see clearly why there’s no point in me keeping a journal. I write about everything that happens to me and even stuff that hasn’t. I do not have to leave the house Today. I have to clean. Which I will do in due time. For now,…
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It’s hip-hop. My homie Matty Lane called me todayHe said, “Hey, there holmes. Whatchu got to say?”I said, I learned something man, the past is what you make it.If it still scars you then you better damn fake it.Don’t allow what’s gone to affect the ahead.Life might be short but you’re far from dead.
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It’s always been hilarious to me that “Impressionism” was born because Monet developed cataracts. This is about that. I want to paint like blind Monet.I don’t care what the people say.They’ll call it “Impressionism.”It will create a schismIn the industry between the layWho paint like blind Monet.And those who paint the gods at play. Commericalibility…
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I used to be a boy.In fact I still am.I never did whatever that wouldTurn me to a man.I have a childish innocence that never went away.They tried to ‘teach’ it out of meI didn’t care what they said.I’ve always trusted Elohim to guide me to the Truth.And They always have done it ‘causeTheir knowledge…
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Echoes of a yesteryearAre just echoes—not the real thing dear.The only real thing is the now.Live right there. I’ll tell you how.Just remember the past was lessons justTo teach you how to grow. Just trustThat God will never lead you down a pathFrom which you never can come back.
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I have to practice silence.Not natural to me.I make so much damn noiseThat I can hardly seeThat I am not this person.I’m something that’s beyond.And nothing here can stopThe journey that I’m on.
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Don’t give in to fear, my dear.Fear will just confuse you.Bet on God, the odds are largeHe’ll never simply use you.If ever you think you have strayedOr forget the path’s divine.Remind yourself mentallyAnd let your own light shine.
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My banker is a wanker.A weird perverted spanker.I told him that I knew of thePonzi scheme investment.A necessary evilIt seems that most the peopleJust give those demons money, funnyJust to let them lend it.And charge enormous interest.The Bible is against this.
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Lost my leg in RenoIt was dancing in casinosDoing crystal meth and mustard gasWhile I sat on my ass.It’s comforting to musterThe majestic lunar lusterShe’s my muse—the Moon.I’m flusteredTo look upon her face at last.
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This is one part of a watercolor I painted manipulated in Photoshop.
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When I was young I read Oliver Twist. Sometimes twice a week. I always had books, my friends. I was so blessed. And behind my house, A creek. That only filled up when The rain really poured. But I had such fun when it ran. If I wasn’t reading I’s tromping through woods. Making treehouses,…
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Fireflies are magik.You can’t convince me they’re not.Little magik faeries.The best that we have got.I like to think the storiesOf faeries are all true.But about the little fireflyWho erases the blues.
Musings of the Mad 