Published via Ecency

Next Slumpu Prototype Advertism" 2025. Acrylic behind advertising, 24 x 30"

This painting is practice for a linocut gravestone with my name on it. Cutting backwards just looks like normal Ron handwriting, which is upside-down, left-handed, and illegible. I know I am one of the last 21st century artists because nearly 8 billion humanoids do not want what I am selling for free. Into the collection basket goes our personal information offered to corporations marketing China plastic woe delivered by oil ships to oil ports. We must be so depressed watching the news and buying stuff. None of us can be heroes today because we dress up desperately non-violent against an idiot dumb, brute-force nation. Even at Christmas time. For Christ’s sake where are the beautiful Fezziwig Cratchits lurking these days? If they ain’t around the corner anymore, then what good is being good?

I’d like to know how other unmade artists fare hawking rage, pain, anger, hurt, and sometimes happy feelings to all and sundry? Into the inboxes they go, another marketing annoyance to friends and family. Free art Frees art! Something peculiar about that I’d say! Art on or off the wall is toilet paper without billionaires buying, so who wants our paintings without their media seal of approval? Any art playing free for the lure of wisdom is anathema to the present and future success of money, which is all fiat in a false society. And oh boy do we trust in it wholeheartedly to bring us the good times we never deserve, but always receive with generic Dijon mustard, bland crackers and the udder cheeses made from sick cows. Don’t trust the neighbor because he must be up to something that I would obviously disagree with—oh look, the Amazon box is here! Check the tracking numbers. Make sure the rest of my packages arrive on time. All the Palestinians are dead and Jesus was born in Bethlehem. Thank you Jeff Bezos. Thank you for not hurting me while I contribute my humble drumming to the killing of everything that gets in your way.

My starry night death prediction is 8:00 p.m. on Thursday, November 27, 2054. How do I know this? Because these days I am more interested in dying right than being born again. It’s just easier to release freedom than will it.

And, Free art Frees art, duh.