a free ride inside my diseased mind.

Archive for the month “December, 2011”

M Zone.

I made this painting (M Zone) a couple of years back. Dark times. It was winter.Rainy,and cold. I was living in my old place, I had a huge 2 bedroom studio apartment all to myself. I crammed everything into the smallest room. Lived in filth and painted in it. I tend to live in large places I can’t afford. I also tend to cram everything into one room. Kind of like a nest or something.

This painting mostly  deals with feelings of betrayal and lost love. Broken hearts seem to help create art, or did. Now I am just numb. I was drinking lots of red wine in that period. Like most of my paintings this one has about 10 other paintings underneath it. The Pink vertical rectangle on the upper left hand side was created by ripping some tape off, inadvertently displaying another layer of paint underneath it. Happy accidents. My friend Michelle purchased this painting. Interesting how her name starts with an M. I was practicing a fair amount of majic during this period. Some black some white.

I created most of this painting with my finger nails, hands, and a steak knife. I  painted it on wood panel. I like wood panel for aggressive paintings, it can take a beating.

M Zone has some imagery mixed in with the dark chaos. There is a table with plates on it, the plates are vortexes. Also some angels hanging upside down. Kind of reminds me of an ancient painting i saw in a bible once. It was set in hell, at a dinner. The table was long, heaped with piles of savory dishes. At the head of the table was Lord Satan, grinning form horn to horn. A myriad of demons were seated around the great feast. The demons had thin gray skin, red eyes,bloated malnourished bellies, and greatly exaggerated appendages.  Arms so long they could not feed themselves, and souls so black they wouldn’t think to feed each other.



without election,
i nominate my self the president
of natural selection.
step tap dancing
on the intergalactic attractions.
swill pits
and shit fits
we sail the seas of disaster.
somebody please
change this robots batteries
i mean diapers.
in northern angoria
the whores are extra sloppy tonight
the one armed bandits
team up to scream
for more silver flavored ice cream.
walter the king of skin,
the flesh master
the pink sea diver.
give food to the cold
with hold
the numbed beaver tongue
lingo langoed
and fluent in
five separate types
wingo wango.

part 2 Transferengenic: (a true story about a fake paramedic)

illustration by Micheal Lee Macdonald

translation juice.

I have been hanging out at the cafe for a good solid week now. Watching and learning. The dialect is mood forming. I have some kind of pain in my dink, I am beginning to think it’s all in my head. Ha!

Most of my monthly allowance has been spent on a weird language deciphering juice. The juice is available in many different colors and flavors. Each color and flavor represents a different dialect, region, and/or class of language. You can even order shots of medicated liquid that speed up the translation absorption rate. To become a professional translation mixologist takes great skill and involves years of dedicated study. If given a bad mix one could end up frying their cerebral cortex, permanently.

Its hotter than a boiled pig in this place! It seems no matter where I sit I am constantly being blasted by industrial rusted heating ducts. It’s an odd heat. Hard to explain. Damp perhaps. I don’t mind it, reminds me of the jungle. Not that i have ever been to a jungle.

Most of the planets energy is produced from movement. Transferengenic Kinetics. Huge glass rooms are filled with accelerated fungoid growth, enormous insects, and sloth like creatures. The movement of various winged things rutting and fucking in swamp slime help create the heat. A varying array of Pheromones are pumped into the cells hourly. The synthetic pheromones trick the creatures, inducing certain sexual proclivities.

The heating system is very problematic and wasteful at the best of times. The quarantined creatures require copious amounts of food and water to power their bodies. Food for these subservient power slaves is collected, or perhaps forcibly stolen is a more accurate assessment. Thieved from primitive planets in the surrounding galaxy.

It’s all a political device. Most of the planets inhabitants are brain washed into thinking they need a certain amount of heat every day or they will perish. The companies that control the heat also control the health board. The facts are constantly askew.

part 1 Transferengenic: (a true story about a fake paramedic)

the cafe.

A dark cafe. Perverts of all walks of life frequent this shit hole. The air is a vapourhaze of smoke, old sex cologne, and memory waste. You see, on this planet, thoughts materialize. The residue of thoughts form a multi colored mist in the air. If your not careful you can reveal too much.

This particular planet is governed by a perverse mongrel named Sanitary Larry. He or rather “it” is quite mad and forces new time zones on different states with the flip of a coin. He made the days half the size, promising longer life.

Christmas lights hang on the walls reflected by mirrors and transparent shark skin. The shark skin is dried and stretched. It resembles grey hymens on clothes lines. Thoughts can be permanently branded on the skin and then sold to the client, a strange souvenir of a memory long since erased.

Me? what do I do on this planet? Not much, I just listen, report stories, and try not to fall in love.

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