Page Three -
Self Portraits Continued...
July 2005 was the year I began creating a News Letter for the Home Depot team.  
Here it is almost a year later and I've found that the cartoon character I've been
working with since its beginnings is only an extension of myself and my emotions
throughout that period.  The year and date was May of 2006, I decided to create a
series of pieces depicting me and their character Home posing side by side.
the mad monster maker
Gosh has it been so long since I've added anything to this website.  

Here are some pictures I've drawn.


                                                                                                      January 18th, 2009
The good thing about art is that
allows me to express myself in
a very unique and descriptive
way.  Here was one of those
very blue times in myself, things haven't been going well.  Wish I could say that my artwork
made things easier to cope with.  But sometimes all it does is amplify the issues.
February 26th, 2009.

This is a particularly downhearted
point in my life.

I continuing to have dreams of being surrounded
by insects and rodents that consider me, as some
inanimate object that can be crawled over, as
something to be unnoticed or even there.

At least, I keep on trying and telling myself,
that someday, someone will notice,
that I should keep on trucking ...
Things will fall in place.
They just have to fall in place.

And then sometimes when I wake ...
Nothing has changed ...
It's all bloody the same.
I lost my job on of all days, January 13th, 2012. I was
in a terrible mind state, these type of thoughts ... Who
wants to share them ... Not me.  But what could I do,
the pain was undeniable and it was deep, deep to the
core.  For almost three days non-stop I dealt with this
aching in my heart, contempt for myself ... "How could
I allow this to happen to myself again!"  "Where do I
go from here and these terrible feelings pounding down
on my brain."  The tears ran down my face, like acid
rain, wanting to drowned me in my place.  Bleak was
my mind, tortured was my soul, yearning was heart
ache, dismal shadows all alone.  I pounded my fists
against my head hoping to alleviate the pain that had no
mercy inside.  It was grotesque and seemed so never
ending and surely had a clear cut path to engulf me in
its wake. All I could think of were the tears, wishing
that tomorrow would never come and today might only
be a dream ... Though I knew that it wasn't.

It's now a week later. I've past that pain and now
observe that because of those times I have created
"Art?" ... Well I don't know how great it is, but I'm
sure that it is "Art", none the less.  
Where do bright
ideas come from?
From somewhere
inside that where.
From that special
place, some call
the Id.
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