If it wasn't for the 7 odd pound lump of love that just ate its way out of my sister's no-no hole, I would probably feel like "god", or karma, or "the way", or Zoroaster, or Thor, or Natural Selection has totally been taking a giant shit atop my general location for the past couple weeks.
But ALAS, all is well and good. I'm turning my frustration and heartache into some thing. What that thing is, I'm not all too sure right now. It's first manifestation is the following painting titled "Love":
Interpretations encouraged.
Anyway, my saying for today is: this too shall pass. Or in layman's terms: Suck a bag of dicks!
Not actually, but I have before and it's an exhilarating experience. You should try it.
------------------------ SAVE THE WHALE, pt. DEUX
Dolphins! you love them!
but, did you know that in a single town in Japan 23,000 are killed each year?
HELP SAVE THEM yes, you can help!
We Can Do It Together!
Educate Yourself. Watch The Cove. Go on, google it.
------------------
I'm going to Sea World on Sunday and will attempt to hand out fliers with the above words on it to the good-intentioned visitors of that godforsaken place. I don't know how long I'll last, but I'll try.
I'm doing it all because I watched the documentary The Cove. It was hard to watch but instilled in me a desire to do something about the horrible massacre of dolphins going on in places like Japan. Not only are around 23,000 being killed each year and either sold to the Japanese people (disguised as whale meat because people won't buy dolphin meat because it contains toxic levels of mercury), or fed in school lunches to thier children (thankfully in the town of Taiji, this has stopped), but the ones who aren't killed are hand-picked, bought for over $100,000 and sent to Sea World and the like around the world to live a miserable life in captivity. Sea World and other dolphinariums have gone to great lengths to keep this unknown, because if their patron animal lovers knew, they probably wouldn't support them.
So this is where I'm starting, passing out posters. It may not seem to be much but perhaps if my efforts are successful in only one case, that person may go on to be as vehement about this issue as I am and pass it on to others.
That reminds me:
Watching the documentary caused me to reflect on the activism of those in my generation, people born from roughly 1978-1990, as well as those who came before us, like our hippie parents.
The hero of The Cove is Richard O'Barry, one of the first well-known dolphin trainers in the world. He's an ex-hippie, or in reality, still a hippie, referring to the one's who were politically active and accomplished great feats of change throughout thier era, and he's my fuckin' hero. Today, it seems as though most of those who are still fighting for a cause are the hippies. Back then, they believed that they could "change shit, man", and change shit they certainly did.
Perhaps a Thesaurus is simply an extremely intelligent dinosaur with a rich mental compendium of synonyms, and depending on the age and/or wisdom of the creature, all respective antonyms.
Real-estate law is making my eyes bleed. Sushi is the only cure. Sushi and/or shooting guns at the shootin' range for ladies night. I should make a target poster of a blown-up photo of real-estate law. Egad, it would feel so good to blow that mother to shreds.
I'm thinking of making my own line of target posters for women. Like, with a blown-up picture of cellulite or a giant penis, with different variations such as; the herpes ridden penis or a penis with a head of your choice coming out of it. Or maybe posters with pap-smear utensils or Westboro baptist church protestors.
Here are some samples:
I tried looking up a herpes-ridden penis, but i failed to preconsider how utterly disgusting that experience might be...let's just say, herpes of the eye is one hell of an ungodly situation.
So, there it is. I will make my fortune by designing fun shooting range posters. If you steal my ideas, I may have to find someone with eye herpes, ask them to touch their eye and then touch your eye.
dusty faces watching and waiting silently by coughing buses above slanted streets that cry with waste down to the valley. limping dogs beg for affection and tourists smile with reflection. locals work from 6-5 guiding tours and taxi driving. cows eat plastic and mutts have more street sense than most New York City tourists. It's hot in town but up the road in the mountains it is cold. clouds travel faster than cars happy people sing in bars.
In spirit of getting back to being actively artistic I've busted out my gouache and watercolor and made something weird: Strong-legged Red-headed Acrobat Woman from Hell.
The end of her bent leg used to be a big hoof but I decided that looked really fucking stupid so I did my darndest to try to conceal my error by bringing out her skeletal, twisted chicken arm instead.
A detail of la visage et armpit;
In conclusion: I don't know, but I enjoy the fact that I made something, even though it's sort of creeping me out.
