Anvil Art Gallery .avi

This is one I am inviting the world to.

Victor Martinez Memorial Poetry Reading

For My Brother: The Man The Myth... The Legend

Studio Work

What Happened to the Buffalo Mind

Here is a book of paintings on paper. Painted this some time ago. I still have this book.

ARTIST BODY PARTS

Here are some pretty curious pieces I made awhile back. Still like them and hope you do too. Series is called Artist Body Parts. Still working on completing the suite.

Some Designs I made for Arte America's Back Stage. I thought they were very interesting. Looking for mural work or art sales.

SPIES OF HEAVEN

SPIES OF HEAVEN

Spies of heaven
are the little yellow dots
sprinkling over your mind
every once in a while

It is the fantasy of angels
Peering through your life
While you eat.
While you shit, or fuck.

It is the god within you
turned inward, dissatisfied
with your precious flesh
abandons you
in the shallow grave
of your life
busted by times
infinite nothing

Spies of Heaven are
Mysterious people
Looking through your eyes
Shadows of another world
While you sit riveted
To a chair
Staring into a cup
Breathing - strangely.

They are cooking breakfast
In a kitchen
On another street
In another town
Sitting at a table
A cloth, a cup, a plate…
A broom, plant
And always there
On the counter, death
As the light of the sun
Staring through your eyes

they don’t know it
just as you
don’t know yourself

There are distant
cosmic processes
going on in every step
every pore on your skin
every molecule
of your being
a cavernous echo
of history’s deadly plot
They play out
in the blink
of your eye
the infinite variations
of you
while one is enough

Spy of heaven
is the witness
In the clay mold
Of your flesh
The ground
Of which you stand

It is keeping tabs on you
Counting the genes
Destroying them
And then counting again
The war in your stomach
Is merely a symptom
Of its infinite permanence
It is simply there
To outlive the matter
Of which you
are composed

it is there to remind you
that it will reclaim
what you call yourself
and once again
you will be part
of the great void.

SPIES OF HEAVEN

SPIES OF HEAVEN
are the little
yellow dots
that sprinkle
over your mind
every once inawhile

Campagnia Show

Selma Mural Comm 2

Day 19.avi

riding1

When I decided to do this next infomercial, I thought that the only way to get to somewhere, where ever you are going is to get up, get ready and start moving (walking, riding or crawling there). Just as a painting. the only way to make a painting is to dip brushes in paint and apply. What happens when you are doing that is the journey and in the journey are little kernels of exciting moments that keep you breathing, keep you alive.

My Name In The Future

Muralathon Video Documentary

Muralathon Video Documentary

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uf-ZmwNULb4&feature=channel

New things I learned about old things.

Enclosed are connective tissues that join together elements of old projects and new writings. I especially like the Vitro Nasu and Niesatt  

I was tagged the other day. The FB message was from someone who tagged me in a photo. I linked to that photo and saw a film still (shown above), presumably from a YouTube movie. It said, "Someone tagged a photo of you in the album "movie stills", and then, "Someone commented on a photo of you:" The weird part about it was that when I followed the link none of it had anything to do with me, so I wrote to the tagger...for an explanation...

...I got a lot. The gmail emails I got said that these people commented on a picture of me, but the picture was of some old Japanese guy, with the message, "Wall Street, the biggest banks of America." When I looked for the tag, it was not there. Then I read something about Bolshviks and politburo stuff and suddenly I got shot back to the time when my older brothers and sisters were in college. And the Chicano Movimiento was goin on and there seemed to be a lot of fear in the air. At this time I was getting my ass kicked all over the neighborhood and learning how to fight. I never liked it. I always thought that the reason there was so much frickin violence was because people are damn animals, that didn't care about sharing, or about differences. By that time I had already watched enough Rod Serling that I knew there were racial and inequality problems, I knew there were reasons the blacks had been so mad, the mexicans were always being taken advantage of, and my friends Dennis and Marlon who were Philipnos, were always teased about doing karate stuff like Bruce Lee. In about 3rd or 4th grade I wrote an essay that made it into the newspaper. It talked about how rich people should share and we should rebuild the schools and how society should become more colorful. My mom has it posted in her house. The other day I was looking at it and reading it, and I thought, "What a dumb kid". Even after I got my ass kicked and was racially slurred upon by whites and knew there was no equal sight in hell for us, I still said the nicest stuff, the most innocuous shit ever. But, I think it was because I thought someone would listen. Sure enough, the fire trucks got painted green that year. The school I referred to got knocked down. That didn't help the whites, the blacks or the mexicans, we still fought like there was no tomorrow. I was fortunate enough to have survived as well as my brothers and sisters. They basically taught me to just know what's going on and not fight for the wrong things. It was very confusing. Now, I look at everything, and it hasn't changed one bit. In fact it gets worse the more powerful america gets. And this moral superiority I hear from some is like shit in their mouths. I have been looking at Evo Morales' stuff and it gives me hope that these torture chamber politics in the west can be changed. Not by Obama, or any Republican in sight, but maybe someone with an even temper, like Rigoberta Menchu, Evo, or someone like that. At any rate we are far from civilized, unless civilized means exactly that, take advantage of your neighbor before he takes advantage of you. I am not sure what tagging me in that foto means, but I do learn from what you send me. Have a nice day!

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