Painting of self by me.
Painting of self by me.
Small box that now contain their once great joy leans agents a wall for all to see their sorrow.
Tongues back necks straight, mouth stretched wide the loud choir singers.
Clouds rush by as they fall enamor by world they will enter wingless.
It sure ain’t life in USA.
This is the second self-portrait I’ve done this year. I must becoming vain.
The only live subject I can afford.
Getting ready for a night out.
Not all power is the same.
I used paint brushes for this work. Have not worked with them for over three years.