March 26th & 27th -- "Dream"

March 26th, 2010:

Griqojdnncmcmm mmakskasjdkjiow oeie


March 27th, 2010:

The nap went well.


March 24th & March 25th, 2010 -- "There will be bog gardening..."

The tree bends in the breeze and sighs.

"There used to be a star here..."


Sitting on the roof.
Sucking on a cough drop.
Quick drawing of houses.



March 23rd, 2010 -- "Pillows"

Sent from the day with a sore throat and arranged in a sour way after tripping over loose laces, Simon, at age 23, finally settles down.



March 21st & 22nd, 2010 -- "American Rooms"

At the end of the day, with the sun setting in the window above the table, the citizen, with taxes in hand, sits in a big, comfortable chair while waiting for coffee in front of a tv that is not shown.


"It is time."



scanned detail of an earlier piece


March 19th, 2010 -- "The Spring Flasher"

The tiny fish, its scales flashing in the sunlight, drops its winter colors for something more dazzling.


March 18th, 2010; adición de la prima -- "March 20th, 2010; 1:32 in the afternoon: Landman rejoices."

Astronomically, the vernal equinox (usually 20 March in the Northern Hemisphere, and 22 September in the Southern Hemisphere), should be the middle of spring (based on the angle of the sun and insolation) and the summer solistice (usually 21 June in the Northern Hemisphere and 21 December in the Southern Hemisphere) should be mid-summer (because the sun is at its highest) but daytime temperatures lag behind insolation by several weeks because the earth and sea have thermal latency and take time to warm up. Some cultures, such as those who devised the Celtic and East Asian calendars, call the spring equinox mid-spring, but others (especially in the USA and sometimes in England) regard it as the "first day of spring". For most temperate regions, signs of spring appear long before the middle of March, but the folklore of 21 March being the "first day of spring" persists, and 21 June as the "first day of summer" is common in the USA. In South Africa, Australia and New Zealand, spring begins on 1 September, and has no relation to the vernal equinox.

(source: wikipedia.org)


Artist's note: don't be fooled, you're getting three for one here, and you already got one before. It's nice out. Bonustime.


March 14th, 2010 -- "Messy People -- vol. 2"

Roy Barbosa, an aspiring actor from Cape Cod now living in Sacramento, a man who enjoys mirrored sunglasses and things that offer shade, a restless traveler with a few stamps in his passport, considered by some to be a "fairly okay dude, man", dons his newly bought shirt to become the font of negativity he always knew he'd become.

"If you ask me, 'yes' is just another way of saying 'i quit'!!!" R. Barbosa, c. 2010



March 12th & 13th, 2010 -- "Junk Food"

A memoir. In stores July, 2046!


June 20th, 1978: The rich son by the pool wonders how he became a ghost among his friends, as Thessaloniki is hit by a 6.5 magnitude earthquake. The plates shift as the world spins.



March 8th, 9th, & 10th -- "QUICK!"

I either completely hate or entirely love this fast, fast, fast, quick, quick piece. Do you like weird?


"Hi! Is this 1-800-BUTTERBALL?"

"Nope - what number were you trying for again...?"

"Nevermind...I have to go..."


Sitting in the frame of the mirror by the lamp near the door in the room with two windows is a receipt from a RISD sophomore transaction involving eraser shields and chipboard. The back of it: bored fruit.


March 7th, 2010 -- "Gate"


Blue sky, red earth, fire water.


March 5th & 6th, 2010 -- "12:45am, 6:45 am"


the blinking lights of parking trains
the quiet, tinny hip hop beat of a laptop by the desk
closed businesses
drafts by the door
ceasing escalators
steady, sliding, sucking sounds of vacuum
screeches of green chair metal on dull, fuzzied marble
the rhythmic, waltz movements of furniture being moved and reorganized to clean
the looped pacing of impatient, waiting travelers
the distant tap of pen on table
the constant checking of time
soapy, bright floodlights in the ceiling
the world outside heading to bed for the weekend




March 3rd & 4th, 2010 -- "Authoritative Statements"

The brilliant college professor with the tips the fingers on his right hand covered in just as much chalk as the palm of his left hand (for lack of using an eraser), with many answers to many things, turns calmly and seeks an answer to one of life's greatest mysteries.

"Who threw that?"


"Listen, guys: I'm not sure if I'm really huge or if you guys are really tiny. I don't care about that. What I do care about is finding my body, and you guys are going to help me find my body..."



March 2nd, 2010 -- "The Lunch Apple"

Crisp and red,
sitting on the table in front of you,
formerly the member of a tree,
formerly the hope of an orchard keeper,
better yet, sold to a supermarket,
stuck with a sticker,
washed in the bathroom,
dried with a towel,
thrown in a coat pocket,
dented by a key,
stripped of its stem,
shined on a sleeve,
taken from its own leaves,
twisted off branch and bow
to be brought to this,
and, yet, without on its part a sigh,
without a concerned or incredulous frown,
into your stomach it goes.


March 1st, 2010 -- "Interference Pattern"

"What...? I didn't hear that last part. It's too windy."

"Say wha...?"


"...this is pointless."