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.