Tuesday, January 26, 2010

My sheep will follow.

Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com


I have a few days left in this nameless town. I can hold my chin in the air when I say I have accomplished what I came for. Because the reason I did come here is to find out why I came here. What was I running away from? What were my intentions with a grandmother I don't have the best relationship with and a grandfather I don't know at all? I like to think everything I do will ripple upon the influences to the people closest to me. This black and white era of my life was surely predestined. I always knew I wanted to get away and what a great opportunity it would put before me. This experience has allowed me to step outside this large box and get a peek at my life and pinch of the world I'm missing out on. I came here to look for some kind of closure to the past in search of a door for my future. I certainly was not going to open a door sitting on my ass. Not that I do. I have gotten far in a short span of time. I'm proud of that yet still modest for I know I could have done more. I know I will eat myself alive if I dwell on the "what if's". I just take what life gives me and run with it. I don't do a lot of shit for the glory or compliments, acknowledgment or money. I put every ounce of energy I have into my art because it is my god given talent and I would be a fool not to use it to make an impact on the world to it's intended potential. I simply look at the things I previously listed as markers, as to where I came from and where I'm headed. And all I hope for is that I leave an everlasting impression in the sands of time, my legacy means the world to me. I want to be spoken of highly from prideful forgiving mouths of all ages. I want people to over hear that conversation and feel the urge to butt in, just to get a feeling of warmth knowing that they aren't the only one who I have impacted. That's what the fuck I want. I want a moment of silence for bittersweet reminiscence. I want that tingle on the spine, whisper in the ear, awkward eye contact, sugar on the tongue sensation when my name is merely uttered amongst a chaotic crowd. Yeah, I want it that deep. Now is the time to make this happen. Even through all the hardships and teary eyed agony I've prevailed I like to think it was preparing me for what lied ahead. And if not. I'll make it be worth something because I have to power to do so. I see this as my second coming. The world has wondered aimlessly without my guidance long enough. I'll stay true to my work and my sheep will follow.

Monday, January 18, 2010

I'd give my life to live my life

Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com

 I guess my biggest fear is loving somebody with all I have to offer. I can't imagine loving a soul as much as I love art. I don't think it possible to have enough room in my heart. This passion i share with my art in no less than a teeth grinding obsession. Without a tool to express myself besides my god given utensils attached to my body theirs a nervous twitch. An ache in my bosom that desperately seeks a cure for this. All this attention to one being may put me in a mad house. It's my gift and my curse. My life and my hearse. I now understand why Van Gogh gave his ear. He knew nothing else to offer but something of equal value to her. The love that burns inside of me is not of human nature. So I must conceal it and flush it upon my canvas and papers hoping that nobody understand what I mean by them, or that I mean them. I pray their is a place beyond this world for a person of my nature. Where sacrificing any amount of flesh for someone I love will not be looked upon as disgust. In Jesus Christ sweet suicide he gave his whole body for us. I'd give it all for my art only to please people who have no fucking understanding for the things I do and say. Fuck you. I love you. All in the same energy. I carry the deepest hate and the most loving love. Just as my art expresses. I churn your thoughts with evil depictions and happy colors to cover the inhumane and like guineas you accept it because only hypocrites would reject it. Anger and evil is as much in us buried away as love and kindness is upon our surface. We are made off all the energy around us. Only a fool would deny. Art is an excuse for getting away from the norm and getting away with anything. So I leave you with this, whatever your thoughts may be. Fuck you, I'm an artist.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Among Men

Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com



....in my mind i am a God..the almighty creator of everything that is
angelic and demonic alike..to speak evil against my art is blasphemy..i
endure being shunned because when the latter days draw near i will take
my throne from the poser's that dare to hold my title..then i will show
the world that i am worthy of the name of that which i am given by
showing the work of my hands..but till this day i will watch from afar
and bless the few that believe in me and my words and the miracles of
my work with my art..so it might seem as if you are among few but i see
your good will and by the thousands shall others stand in your defense
for they will be made believers in due time..i leave u with these words
my angel..you have your wings.

Monday, January 11, 2010

pathetically impatient


  Hmm..let's see. It's so different here. Some people wouldn't believe I made the move. Then again they do. With me the unpredictable is the predictable. Lol! I sound like an arrogant bastard. I'll let you be the judge. I tell people: me and my art are one in the same, so whatever is said about my art, is the only way I can be explained. This way people can look at my art and know a little bit about me. After all, their are shards of me embedded in the code your mind is attempting to crack. I try to the best of my ability to allow people to talk and explain their ideas of my art. We don't know ourselves as much as we would like to. Maybe some strangers words can depict me precisely and I'm not being receptive to it and I pass up an opportunity to change my life forever. In the same sense, I like to let them ramble in their own universe about what they perceive about my art before i say a word. It intrigues me greatly. Everybody's minds work different. If they relate to it in a way that I can not explain then the piece may play a huge role in their life. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. That doesn't mean all  the words your hearing are the same as mine. I've been sketching in only ink. Black and white. That's how I see my life at this point. Make a fucking decision and stick to it. Forget the gray shades for now. I'm my own guinea pig. I have nothing to lose. Everything is going to effect my art in a different way, but none of my experiences will alter my talent. Oh, but I love color. I have the habit of turning the darkest most demonic art into angelic colorful art. It really fucks with your mind. I want to sneak the offensive into your mind where you accept it because the colors make you feel differently then your eyes want you to see. They gasp over the black and white sketches but their eye balls shall vomit at the sight of them colored. I can't wait!


Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com

Saturday, January 9, 2010

I too often overlook the little things


 The more i sketch, the more i find out about myself. My time in Arkansas has become somewhat of a meditation. I isolate myself from all outer influences by locking myself in a room with only my sketchbook as an outlet for communication. I talk to my art as if it were another person in the room that I have never met. In seeking the deepest most unconscious thoughts I begin to figure how much I really don't know myself. This can't be me. Oh, but it is. I often stress myself out thinking of how i can get better and what more can i do. Always thinking of the next step. This is when I realize I need to slow down and look at the steps I missed and cherish them as well because they too played a role in getting me where I am now. I surround myself with positive, loving, supportive people and they uplift me in a way I could never do myself. Their is a difference between doing art and LOVING art! 



Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com

Thursday, January 7, 2010

from flashing lights to snowey winter nights


Well, I made a move from Houston to Arkansas Christmas week. I love it here so far. A lot of elderly people and room for me to make a mark in the art scene. Let's do this!