We artists love to be the controller of our own worlds; however they manifest; we are like gods or little dictators. Sometimes even those worlds do not go our way; terror hides behind every corner of the mind-palace; tearing at our sanity and refusing to give way to our materials.
Other times our creations leak out of the seemingly impenetrable wall of canvases and paper to join the jumble of stimuli which is now our rather ludicrous reality.
Might as well start painting everything; seems we are on the same earth where many different realities are at war. If such bizarre cruel and inane assertions of our collective madness must remain at the forefront, I will no longer hold back my shadow demons from leaking out into the ether. This is not a drawing, it is a vortex; one of many.
