thoughts...

Pierced and twisted the heads drown intermittently in the desire for and the reluctance of beauty. The internal battle transmogrifies the external and denies a shroud of simplicity.
Dewpoint,a saturation point of all that is carnal, savage, and primal is explored within this painting.

Three Sacks-In voluptuous admiration of Goya, I become the man the frail man I become the man that whose hearing is lost. I become the man that was buried without a head. I leave myself. Scholars cannot decipher his etchings from the collection "Follies". I do not desire to decipher. I ache to correspond and this is my attempt.

The Other Side of Touch is a painting that spirals into the mundane exacting neither response nor reaction nor release; a lack of capacity.

Behave. Why?