I have been spending hours upon hours making new images as I’m finishing the book part of “Panic Pandemic”. I’m making some of them available, though the most out there and objectionable shall certainly be saved for the book. Now that “New World Chaos” is moving along and exciting me so much, it seems a bit like I’m overflowing constantly. The sound rituals are indeed reverberating in all directions. This is the kind of energy I remember from the days of death threats from fundamentalists and wiretaps on the phone. (I’ve started answering it again, as I found out I’ve lost out on some work with the Orlando Ballet through my being incommunicado).
I have all paintings ready for the Dark arts festival, so it looks like I’ll get them there in time. It’s too bad I can’t be there this year. To any of you who goes, I’d love to hear all about it. One of these days I’ll start socializing again, but for now, my work is in the Foamin’ Bunker.
The influence of fin de siecle decadence seems to be inescapable to me. I spent my early twenties in awe of the surrealists, but my technique and imagery are more opium-dreamlike than psychotic these days. But then, lik all good twenty-first century Americans, my work is all autobiographical. I just leave out the bits where I dig lint from my belly button.
I have had moments of lack of outrage at humanity the last few years, but the healthy disdain returned about this time last year. I can’t be bothered to observe them too close, as their self destruction is too slow to be constanly diverting, but it’s hard to find the word for the way the masses have capitulated their souls to the marketplace. I’ll try later.Apos pPantos Kakodaimonos!