clik hear 4 New Art

monthly art newslettr

the Dark Bird Palace (the Shed)

Absurdity is my Friend (million selling NYT best sellr 4 sure)



Visit me at the Tesuque Reservation Flea Market

(undoubtedly the most famous flea market artist in the whold freakn world)

(March thru November).....

or go to the end of the alley (bout 100 yards back at 620 Canyon Road (thurday -monday)

New Art here on the front page Evry Monday til i croak (BOOKMARK ME)


desert wolf

24 x 30

feral mess of oil paint on wood framed flea billy style


often confused with fine art
floods santa fe art galleries
enough to worry me
that the big art dude in the sky
may eventually say
thou has crapped all over my canvas
what an abomination
let me wash this sinful art world
of art posters, art cards, magnets
& metal kokopellis right down the
tube and i will resurrect once i get the taste of
santa fe shamanic art shit
out of my mouth

surprisingly enough
more people than usual
looked at me like they were ready
to throw a net over me this weekend
prompting me to put out
an APB for myself
to make sure
i didnt go all desert patriot
and try to dump all the organic green tea in the desert harbor
fueled by that most wonderous
inspiring time of year
april 15

100's of santa fe artist
the "whos who list"
will exhibit their work
in a big back patting
wink wink
aint we cool art show
at the fancy contemporary art center
which puts me squarely on the short list
of the soon never to be curated
nationally un recognized
and not popularly demanded art show
the big santa fe
"who?" exhibit

but frankly obscurity
suites me just fine
oblivion even feels a bit
intoxicating at times
but i still hope to be
the best painter
at the flea market

back to me being crazy
no im not schizophrenic
but i am
schizo hillbilly
for instance
you might catch me
eating an organic mushroom burrito
with a bottle of purified water that has
been blessed by a local deity
and the next moment
wolfing down a box of ding dongs
after a bucket of fried chicken
and thinking nows just the right time
to head back to the double wide with
a case of bud to see if my 30-30 can still
blow a juniper straight to
turpentine heaven





Desert Clowns

big oily mess


Blue Boy & Lost Child

saw the desert clowns

riding coyotes last week

down near the Rio Grande

where they had gone to fish

and eat a picnic lunch

nothing bad happened

nothing good happened

they just looked across the river

as the clowns waved at them

and thought to themselves

how glad they were they were

that those tricksters were on

the other side of the river


(two moore new paintings if u clik rite hear)




Coyote Protection Painting

big oily on loose canvas


what is the sweetest spot

in your daily walk thru the stars in the milky way

other wise known as your life?

sit still

remember what you knew

when you were

10 years old

for some

its writing a story

for others its organizing marbles

and for a few

its being a coyote...

today i say protect that golden child for dear life

its your ticket to a better dream

but then again

i have along bushy tale

so be careful what you believe

when a trickster like me sits down

at a keyboard and types

something to be read on the

inner net





Dark Bird Abduction

small oily


tomorrow is art newslettrr day

and this one is gonna git weird or

completely ordinary

depending on which foot you lean

heaviest upon

(ones firmly planted here the other theair)

so sign up if u wanna sea some

new paintings and other stuff that really shouldnt go

into a newslettrr but always seems to

sneak into







Tricksters Everywhere---SOULD

oily on loose canvas


last week
fancy MOMA museum of modern art
contacted me and asked
if i wanted to be part of a
group show of important
international artist
to which i replied
"im the greatest
flea market artist in the world
& u stick me willy nilly into a group
of fancy pants artist who paint abstracts
thinkn im as green as a tailgater
at his first flea market
on a cold spring morning?
no sirree
eye aint gonna be privy
to that
so when ur ready to give me my solo
u know where to find me
on AISLE J at the flea market
where eye will be paintin
dark birds every friday thru sunday
like i have been for the last 14 billion years"





Dark Horses of New Mexico

about 36 x 13 on loose canvas


some people leave
for months
some for years
some forever
and some
that have left
are still here

these mysteries
the key to good art
and understanding
not understanding
still occasionally rattle
my midnight hours

my inner scorpio
always wants to hide
a paradox to most flea market eyes
but its where i hear the voices & sea the art
in a good dark corner

my body
is a recorder
of all things felt
occasionally even the
tremor of a dove
as it watches a hawk
circle above

over sensitivity of this sort
is not something
artists handle well
paranoia & delusions
surrounded on all sides
by the tyranny of confusion
often chase off
my best art

but even when still
my thoughts wander
to un answerable places
mysteries with no end
my lizard brain
like a lions roar
carries only
so far

clik rite hear four moore artsttstststststssssnakes




The Essence of Humans

(clik rite hear for some close-ups)

important art rule
i read yesterday...
"never talk or write
about your paintings
to the viewer"

another sacred cow
from the world of fancy art
that i smash every day
with my 5lb hammer
demystifying the artist
and $20,000 paintings
along the way

(my lower hinged mandible
as well as my double jointed typing finger
set me apart from most neanderartist
who can only grunt
and wave their arms wildly
while chasing the exotic
rare art collector across
the manna savanna)

but then again
i digress
and then
i digress again
and then agin
& agin
takin me further away
from the hanging

(if this has distracted
your attention from
the preciousness of my painting
then just maybe
i should go back
and take a look
at how i can make it
more worthy of your

being that I AM
a chronic rule breaker
a formal ball buster
and a painting procedural discombobulator
that is
a full on bonified dark bird
i trust you will understand
why you've never seen my art
in a gallery or museum
and why i am
at a flea market
where i assure you
no one is
talking high concept
and deep metaphor

but oops there i go agin
typing at well over
45 words a minute
with only 12 errors more or less
(whos countn?)
and you've prolly already
forgotten the painting

"you know of course
that if you talk about your art
you will ruin the mystery
for the viewer
dont you?"

and what if a dark bird
was just a dark bird?
would that blow your mind?
(and sales price as well?)

and so i spend
the next 15 minutes explaining
that the naked assassin
lives under the volcano
and that the dead cowboy
drives a red truck
and that tricksters
are everywhere
at which point
the lady bought the painting…
(i hate mystery)

i believe in the exchange
between the artist and the viewer
where people see
who i am
despite my other worldly stream of consciousness
ideas that often erupt into a flea market boogie
which i have also been warned about
(important art rule # so & so
never ever dance in front
of the viewer of your art)





Spring Rabbit---SOULD

about 20 x 30 loose canvas


newslettr is tomorrow

lots of new paintings and a story

set in Death Valley Kalifornya....

ifn u aint on it yet

clik rite hear to join the dark bird expressssssss







about 16 x 20 framed with a flea market frame


reality & perception
one a spinning wheel
the other a ricochetting
metal ball landing on
a different number every day
in our game of
cosmic roulette

lost in a freak snow storm
on a road
that took us straight to Area 51
rekindling all my conspiracy theories
that the Kat with a map
really was a sexy alien

what are the chances
that a scribbled map
a lady at a bar gave us
really would take us
to the secret govt gate?
what are the chances
that those men
at checkpoint charlie alien
really would throw us
in the federal jail house
for taking their
foto graph?
what are the chances that the spy satellite
30 miles over our head
just took a photograph of me
staring right up at them
with a goofy smile on my face?

masks and false personnas...
that morning a local bum
stood in front of me at the market
with a shopping basket
full of sparkling water
goat cheese and
organic turkey slices

later a guy at the gas station
tould me that his father
had been killed at area 51
but the govt hushed it up
which wasnt nearly as odd as
his speech about eckhart toll
and how the "power of now"
was going to make it possible
for us to see aliens
for real

and Now
here i was near the mothership
but worried about running out of gas (again)
a cosmic fisherman standing on a whale
fishing for celestial minnows


clik hear for availablebleble arts paintings arts paintgnings ar pain apaintings


Men aint Socialable--SOULD

24 by 30 multicrappia on wood framed flea billy

last month
a border patrol agent
asked me where i was from
and i tould him
"a star"
which is the truth
but will also get u hung up
in one of those
detention centers
in arizona for about
2 hours

i dance everyday
to sad music
that plays in my head
which i cure upon demand
by simply turning up the RPM's
on the dial in my ear
creating the only crzy song
i can live with

books upon books upon books
about the right paint brushes
the exact pigments
and the proper painting surfaces
to paint upon
and yet
none mention my most important
studio painting tools
an 18v screwgun
a 5 pound mallet
and brushes so caked with old paint
that thay caw like a dark bird
when i paint

hours spent yesterday
working thru the dark bird alphabet
making croaking noises
cawing sounds
confusing & baffling
one old lady
who unfortunately saw me flapping my skinny arms
tryn to take flight from
the ground

please ladies please
come to the flea market
we so desperately need
bands of roaming
female shoppers
to graze on our

more color
more passion
more lifting up
of our heavy heads
our weary hearts
isnt this
what its all


clik hear for a few new paintngs this weak




Human Condition II---SOULD

17 x 21 oily bord framd fleabilly style


every artist craves success

but most good artist

fear the comfort

that can come from that

which can deprive one

of his or her "edge"

in their work....

that said

who doesnt want to be happy?

who doesnt want to be loved?

who doesnt want a nice home?

its a paradox within a riddle thats wrapped

in a big fat question mark with a

dollar bill as the bow

on top for those that

chase magic dust....

but is it really any different for anyone else?

im not really sure

but i was sad to read of PSH's demise

at his own hands yesterday

and reflected on how someone can appear

to have it all as an artist

and yet throw it away so seemingly easily

in such an obviously self destructive way

that most would associate with a human being

that has failed miserably in life

that logically led to sticking a needle full

of poison in your arm....

such is the

human condition

i make no judgements on this

i simply observe how

easily life can slip away

and salute all those stubborn curious human beings

that continue to

fight the good fight







taking a vacation at the Salton Sea---SOULD OUT

foto by Kat Livengood


taking a good rest

i need a vacation

doing close to nothing

just sitting on the beach




bought a milk shake for a kat

winked at a dark bird

smiled at a desert dawg

ate a one eyed dead fish

and today

i might go full out with a can of beans

extra ketchup please

and then take

a long walk on the beach at the salton sea

to contemplate 2013

and what eye think happened

vs what actually happened

u know

that so called reality thing

that we all try to avoid

im just taking a vacation

walking along the salton sea

looking back and editing my story

like most people do every day

but with a

very very big


what do you think

happened in your 2013?

always like to hear from folks....



(couple of really good paintings left on weakly art..clik hear to sea whats left)



the Human Condition---SOULD

about 16 x 24 framed flea billy style


for the last two months

my shed a the flea has been empty

except for the lingering energetic memories

from last year when the occasional powerful experience

would happen that would leave

a strange psychic tremble in the shed

that i still feel at times many miles away

well into january


very few would accuse me of being new agey kinda guy

but i do struggle

with what to make of these surreal explosive moments

when something larger than me or a nice painting happens

(oh my gawd i love dawg paintings!!!)

in that lil shed at the reservation flea market

but do i chalk these small moments up to

previous lives?



medicine? (a friend tales me art is medicine)

or the increasingly delusional imagination of a

bizarre flea market artist?

perhaps any or all of these answers are possible

but those that have experienced these moments

kmow who you are and what

happens occasionally at the Dark Bird Palace...

(the rest of the day can be anything from boring to desperate to unbelievably beautiful)

anyway for now

(and it could all disappear in a minute)

i believe i am

simply the temporary custodian of a small patch of ground

5 miles outside of santa fe new mexico at a touristy market

that draws dark birds from all sorts of places

that just need have a good CAW together



i choose to believe this

just like everyone else

chooses to believe something that gives there life meaning

but its also because to give up this

real or imagined world

which in my case is vast

would be giving up the

the only thing i truly own

(tomorrow is the newsletter with several... lets just say interesting paintings in it)

((may the great CAW be with you))







Happy Boy---SOULD

paintd multicrappia about 29 x 24


clik hear for some inkys drawins





Green Fish Red Deer

37 x 62 on loose canvas


im being watchd

spyd upon

notes are being taken

information is being shared

its just a matter of time

before im tied up & taken away

by the WildLife Intelligence Bureau

whose eyes have been following me

from behind the sage

from atop the fence

from a dark hole in the ground

even my shed is being undone

by animal espionage

(booby trapping an artist might be a major coup for the rabbits)

so dont call me delusional

or crazy

or paranoid

i know why the dark birds are staring at me

the desert dawgs are surveiling me

the dung beetles are following me

and the wild horses are constantly glancing

over their shoulders at me

( however i am largely ignored by the

homo semi erectus sapien consumerus maximus)

so let me be clear

when i eventually "disappear"

(and i will)

there will be a request for a trade

on a cold dark mesa

between the two sides at midnight

where the WIB will offer me

in return for a celebrity cat

please dont pay the price

they cant be trusted

its too dangerous

and i refuse to be traded for the youtube kat

who skis on a lake in florida

while wearing a tutu

with a mouse tied atop his head


(several new paintings for this new year......clik rite hear!!**!*!


Winter Dark Birds---SOULD

20 x 68 oily on loose canvas


dark birds are
grit and beauty
capable of soaring gracefully
high into the blue sky
and then nose diving into
a nasty dumpster
for a leftover taco

dark birds
arent really dark
look closely
and you will see
they are a
beautiful melancholy blue

dark birds are not leaders
dark birds are not followers
they will destroy any club
that will have them
undermine any authority
that commands them
and leave you guessing
everytime you try to
pin them down

dark birds are curious
about everything
picking things up
setting things down
building a nest from garbage
a dark bird crown

dark birds are born
not made
some try to hide
with the robins
some try to fly with the hawks
but everyone knows
a dark bird when they see one
even if the dark bird
is sometimes
the last one
to know


clik hear four won more painting


Lost Child & Blue Boy feed the Rabbits at the Flea---SOULD

23 x 32 moore r lesss on bord


They came from Jack Rabbit Mesa

about a mile north of the volcano

where the sage was dense

and the coyotes were thick

but the rabbits were usually safe

if they sat real still



Blue Boy and Lost Child

were at the mid part of the day

traffic was slow

the weather was warm

and there was no place to go


across from their tent

was a storage container

full of rugs and carpets

but it was also a second home to the rabbits

who could crawl underneath

and watch the market unfold

hoping to find dropped food


Lost Child saw them crawl into their bunker

as she had many times before

and asked Blue Boy to go buy a bag of popcorn

from the taco stand


When Blue Boy returned

they walked over to the rabbits

who came out to greet her

and they ate the popcorn

and talked about the Dark Birds

who were sitting on the

fenceline just behind the market


after a while the rabbits

stretched out and layd down

and Lost Child and Blue Boy

sat down next to them on the red dirt

and watched their tent from afar

as the the business of the day was mostly done

and all that there was left to do

was to be there

in the vast beautiful desert





the ghost of 3 dark birds---SOULD

about 28 x 9 on loose canvas


manners are important

its how we get thru awkward moments

and they also keep the crime reports down

but im on unlikely tangent now arent i?

please accept my humble thank you

for coming to my living breathing art website

(ive been here since 2001)

or possibly you have bought

one of my highly unique paintings

off this strange lil corner of the web....

today i have two other

new paintings on my weakly art page

Jack (hes a rabit)

and the lil Gunfighter....clik hear for that..

i also have some

art on Pinterest that i highly encourage folks to pin to their page

and pass around (clik hear)

...thanks and happy holidays






Protectd by Fate & Destiny---SOULD

approx 34 x 47 oily on bord


i saw blue boy

pulling his wagon in an arroyo

as i drove to the flea market last week

he was picking up rocks

and hauling them back

to the lava tube that leads back

to the volcano


the next day i saw Lost Child

as she played with the rabbits

near my shed

she askd why blue boy

pulled rocks around in his wagon

i tould her i didnt know but

i would ask him the next time

i saw him


Lost Child wants a horse

she tould me the wild horses

that run behind the volcano up the rio grande

were her favorites and that if she

had to choose which one

she wanted the one

that had never had a hair cut


When Dharmageddon pulled up

in his beat up old van

i asked if i could see his new crystals

that he had for sale

and he sayd maybe i could later and that

he had found a

treasure cave for crystals that no one

could ever find


the rest of the day

i painted until i saw a dark bird land on my shed

with something large in his beak

when i got close i realized

it was a turquoise ring

but im not sure if it was the

right ring size for the corvid





Flea Market 2013---SOULD


im not an outlaw or a crook

but when the checkout lady

at the grocery store asked me

to sign the e-pad while she yawnd

that far far far away look

something snappd in my head

like the beautiful crackling sound

an ifone makes

when you run over it in a parking lot

so i drew a dark bird

on the signature line

and she didnt notice

and matter of a fact

no one has noticed

in the last six months

as i launched my dark bird revolt

while practicing my drawing

and who knows

the dark bird i did at the gas station

this week was so good

i may start practicing

my dead cowboys



3 more new paintings

on my art page

clik hear two sea




21 x 16



ancient anazazi holy site
spiritual to the bone
a quiet whispering wind
honoring the ancient ones
on a late autumn afternon

in the far far distance
i see a puff of dust hurtling
towards me like a blue spirit
something mystical is happening
i feel as though i have
been chosen for something

when the vision arrives
it is in the form of a
blue Dodge mini van
with a Utah licence plate
from which 5 small blond demons
tumble out screaming
my ears begin to bleed
my brain explodes
my eyes pop out
im having an out of body experience
im dizzy
im nauseous
what is happening to me?
is this a ritual?
i hear voices from
the great unknown
and now i begin to
projectile barf
i am in the throes
of a white mans vision quest
i see white ants
crawling all over
the ruins
i now lose control of my bowels
the lil white demons
have consumed me
and i am now shitting
pure cosmic consciousness
the elders watch as the
little demons run furious circles
around the great kiva
waving their arms
in small tomahawk chops
and then its over
just as quickly as it began
the teachers from the blue spirit disappear
in another trail of mysterious dust
and i am left cleansed
i have been purified
i have seen the truth
i am now
a white mans shaman




The Light Holders---SOULD

(clik hear four won moore paiintn)


lawrence welk on a saturday nite
im watching white people
so white
that all their rhythmn
is in their hair

the naked assasin returns
lost child is found
the dead cowboy
rounds the corner
and 14 billion years later
im still painting the dream
of the misfits in the desert

i found a hole
in the corner of my shed
got out my flashlite
to look down inside
where i saw a mouse
sitting at a computer
watching kat videos

i stapled a headless doll
to the outside of my shed
put the head on sharp stick inside
hoping to achieve
the golden seal of approval
from the better flea & garden magazine

you know your over the hill
when a kid passes you
on the off ramp while hes texting
and still has enough time
to flip you off


the Naked Assasin---SOULD

24 by 30 multicrappia----clik hear for two more paintngs


in a dream
i was tould to tell you
to whisper this
to yourself
as you read it...

we're not lost
just born with galaxies
shaped like question marks
in our minds

your memory
is water
moving thru your body
into a vast ocean of stars
that flows from a river
of your dreams

the more you feel
the higher the concentration
of gold you will find
in your blood

there are always
two memories standing close to you
protecting you
when you need them
you know who they are
and they have always
been with you


The Turquoise Man---SOULD

9 x 12 mol multicrappia on olde borde framd fleabilly style


the turquoise man

the hat man

the scarf lady

the spice guy

the beef jerky man

the jewelry lady

the knick knack woman

the rug guys

the zuni jewelry lady

the ceramics man

the bead man

the abstract art lady

the junk boys

the tibetan art guy

the precious stones girl

the african dealers

the basket ladies

the taco guys

all of us on the tesuque reservation

at the flea market just doing

our thang...





Turquoise Lady---SOULD

23 x 31 oily on multicrappia


so many different aspects

to my vision of the world

that ive been accused of being

43 different dark birds

what can i say?

its true

i am multicrappia

we prolly all are

if my paintings were all

joy and bliss

you wouldnt have a chance to see

the worlds vast unlimited supply

of vinegar and piss

and really how can you tale

the light from the dark

without it?


clik hear four another paintng or too or tree



big messy canvas


tomorrow is the monthly newslettr with new art

and a story/write with Kats fotos....

cant really beat it unless you dont like art

clik hear to join

Join the art newslettr





Wild Life---SOULD

big messy wild oily on loose canvas


(clik hear to sea a Dead Cowboy GRILL)



Mountain Lion--SOULD

sept 30 2013


this week

this big kat is going

to find the right home

with the right person

(fierce, passionate, adaptable, relentless & loyal)

clik rite hear and you will

find two other worthy desert remnants

(free thinkn weeds that do not cower from the light)

and one more thing

if folks cant see your light

sometimes you have to bring

a hammer

(flea un wisdom from the dark bird palace)




sept 23 2013----animal cosmos---SOULD

big oily on canvas


a vendor at the flea
who sells metal grills
tales me he carrys a few in the shape
of the arkansas razorback football mascot
just because arkies go gaga over
anything related to their sports team...
case in point
last week a heavyset lady walked up
saw the grill
frantically lookd around for her husband
and when she couldnt find him
stepped into the middle of the aisle
and yelled at the top of her lungs

in protest to all the
serious...successful...important artist
on the innernet these days
i bought a small wooden fish
at the flea this week
that i carryd it around all weekend
under my arm
just to certify that i am indeed
a very very very serious
(not to mention very very important)

forget about
Absurdity is my Friend
desperation is the mother of
everything i am

shooting the bull at the flea
one artist tells another
his painting looks like a
christmas tree on fire
and recommends he adds
some "brown balls" to the tree
(this suggestion creates
an interesting moment of confusion
as the painter was gay)

sometimes i think my shed
is a time warp machine
where people show up from another life
sometimes i think its
a mysterious shack in the desert
where an weird guy makes art
other times i think its
a confessional booth where people
pour out their hearts
and other times
it appears to be a deeply disturbing place
to some people who walk by
looking as though they had just been tould
they had to eat liver and onions for the next year .....
i suppose
its many things to many people
but mostly its a mirage that will be here
for a very short time and then
fade into the memory of the desert
just like all of us



Sept Dark Bird---SOULD

30 x 40 oily mess on a real live stretchd out canvas


i dreamd i heard
someone digging
in my front yard
and then there i was
standing buck naked
beside the apricot tree at 2 am
looking for a man
with a shovel
all this witnessed
by a stunned raccoon

the next day
a man left a broom
& an axe at my shed
telling me that
i could either
clean up
or make a killn
depending on my mood

later that night
my bed was on fire
or at least i could smell
that sizzle & stink
of burning electrical wires
that somehow
had been implanted
not into my brain
but into my mattress

i scratched at
the smoky bed
like a dawg kicking his leg
as he chases
a rabbit across
his field of dreams

the next day
i postd a sign out front
of my house that sayd
"Dream Factory & Pixture Emporium
dark birds welcome
no diggn with shovels at night
no fires allowd inside
and all skunks
must check in
at the front desk"


Alchemy Birds----SOULD

big oily collajed bord


the internet is collapsing

into big box websites

just like main street in amerika

is losing out to wal mart & taco bell

so thanks for visiting a website

that isnt listed on wall street

or that doesnt collect

your "information"

and there are no annoying pop up ads

on the side of my page

and if you really want

get off the main road

come out to the flea market

and visit the dark bird palace

where a real live jack ass

paints with his tale




Unidentified Flying Dawg--SOULD

sept 2 2013 ---oily collaaged bord 48 bye 32


why do we think aliens would have

a face that resembles




Talking to Horses

foto by Kat Livengood


The Way

anxiety attacks
panic & midnite fears
while wrestling
with an unrecognizable shape
in the dark
that once finally pinned
i realized
was me

seeking comfort
i read the ancient chinese book
of wisdom
the tao de ching
and tryd to move like water
but the only liquid form
i resemble is
lava flow

the next day at the shed
i tould a guy
"i was 14 billion years old"
which i am
but he sayd
"no your not"
a dead end at the
metaphorical crossroads
of a humans frontal lobe

so i tried being centered
as the Tao preaches
but it made me nervous
being in the middle
so i moved to the very edge
of things so i could keep
a careful watch out
just like all good dark birds

the next day
i tould a lady
i was a full blooded
anasazi space traveler
and the dark bird palace
was my space ship
she said that wasnt possible
i told her i had
the papers
to prove

the tao says
those that say
dont know
and those that dont say
which leaves a chronic jabbermouth like me
in the
"he dont know crap place"
according to the
author of the Tao
who wrote almost
5 thousand words

the next day
i lost my temper when
a lady changed her mind
7 times about buying a painting
prompting me to remember
that being peaceful
was the wise way of the tao
but upon reflection
i realized if Lao Tzu himself
were sitting in front of me
i would have punched
peaceful jackass
in the nose

it appears i may not be
good Taoist material


lots of painting if you clik this button



Dawg Gawd---SOULD

27 x 24 oily canvas stretchd fleabilly style

(clik hear for lots more art)


the guy who
looked at my art
with an eyeful of disappointment
just walked by
proudly carrying one of those metal armadillos
with a bobbing head
foiled again
by yard art from juarez mexico

my coffee pot serves me
my computer commands me
my vacum cleaner annoys me
they all plug into
the same electrical socket
what the hell is behind
that wall?

the sound of my shed
looks alot like
dark birds
flying over
my head

"careful with
forgiveness and charity
just look at the guy
who started all that crap
dirty, homeless and wondering
the desert with twelve hobos
eventually dead as the doornails
they hung him with"
(over heard at the flea)

if one more person
asks me how much a painting is
and then tells me
they have no money
im going to drill a drywall screw
right thru my back molar





Secret Language--august 12 2013---SOULD

big oily


this wont take long
you may feel a little pressure
maybe some discomfort when we make
the first incision on your neck
but once we remove
your head
you wont feel
a thing

i saw green fish
walking up the mountain
red deer running across
the blue sky
and i was everywhere
all the time
covered in white
from top
to bottom

my brain
my body
my life was completely destroyed
the first time i saw her
i knew i had a problem
and inside that problem
was a beautiful flower
blooming with thorns
my answer was to wear
an astronauts suit
with a breathing aparatus
and heavy gloves
so as not
to be infected by the
dangeritus passionata
feline flower

it was powerful & passionate
an epiphany of stars crackd open
where my head used to be
i felt alive
but also understood
how easy dying
might be


some might call it
being born again
some might call it
a hallucination
some might just say
thats crzy sh*t
but that night
for a few brief moments
i was caught in between
the here & there
the real & unreal
the seen & unseen



Monsoon Sailing--SOULD

big oily on canvas


august 5 2013 bout 10 am last nite i saw 4 raccoons

climbing my fence under the moon

sometimes i wonder what they think about cars

cuz when we git in them

the move like an animal so maybe they think

our cars are alive?

tomorrow is my new art newslettr with great fotos by kat

so join up ifn ye aint already on my newslettr from the desert

once a month blast of art and photos and my usual bit of


(roger 10-4 that whats your 10-20?)

dont know not sure but someone gave me the stearing wheel

what a fiasco that is

he said




Texas Rangers---SOULD

24 by 31 mol oily mess on bord


in a cell fone kinda world

im always lookn for a payfone

on a corner

just on the off chance

that i will find a lucky quarter

in the change slot





Dead Cowboy Flea Market---SOULD

36 by 12 oily on a bord (im done with dead cowboys for a while) ((ithink)


when i was a young boy
my grandmother used to ask me
with her sleepy eyes
"how did you sleep last nite?"
a puzzling question
for a 10 year old boy
who slept as easily as
he breathed

last nite i awoke
in some unidentifiable
highly recognizable pain
which is often gone
like a dream
if i look out my window
into the medicine
of the blue moon

i could see
the mountain top thru a
leaf shaped vignette
in the cotton woods
and what i saw
was three dark dawgs
racing to the top
of baldy peak

the leaves shimmered
in the sweet breeze
and i lost sight of them
if they got there
and if they lived
on the moon

i woke again later
to the dark dawgs howling
on baldy peak
maybe they cant sleep either
maybe they have
the dark dawg blues
maybe i have
the dark dawg blues

i dozed off to their music
and became one of
the dark dawgs
we howled at the moon
and chased around
on the lunar surface
in the cool night air
and i slept like a pup
the rest of the



Road Trip (sould)

small multicrappia on wood


clik hear to sea other new painting


Dont Look Back---SOULD

big oily mess on big canvas


two fires bookend
the flea this year
playing us like
a smokey accordian
inhaling life
exhaling smoke & ash
the last sad sounds
of trees & animals

my beautiful screwgun
slipped on the hard wood
ricochetting a screw
up thru my eye
when i pulled it out
dark birds poured out of my head
onto my painting

i dont watch or read
the news anymore
if i wanna know
the weather forecast
i look at the mountain
if i wanna know how
the economy is doing
i will ask someone
on the front row how their weekend was
and if i wanna know
about polyticks
i will watch the finches
fight over nest space
in my shed

flea market artist 101
u have a better chance
of selling art to a dark bird
than a woman
wearing capri pants
with a round hat
on her head

as i inhale
the dead world
floating in smoke
i wonder if the bits
of incinerated life
will find genesis
in my lungs
and a sneeze could be
their big bang?

is lightning bright
because it is a rip
in the cosmos
behind which lies
pure light
pouring into
our dark cave?

finally the skies opened
pouring down fire retardent
cures for insanity
one new religion
and several new life forms
in a puddle next to my shed
but when you get right down to it
sometimes a drought
maybe nothing more
than bad luck


No Fences--SOULD

big oily on cavas


July 8th 20.......(what year is it anyway?)


Windmill Trees---SOULD

big oily canvas


finished on febuary 11 1894



Turtle Ride---SOULD

big oily canvas


"i didnt do nuthin..."
the melancholy song
of a young girl
melted into the backseat
of a cop car
outside the store

inside the store
zombie pandemonium
one lady is throwing multiple bags
of cheese puffs in her cart
a fat guy wearing a tee shirt
two sizes too small
is stacking boxes
of frozen burgers in his cart
and somewhere in the store
i hear the distant scream
of a squeaky wheel

out of the corner of my eye
i see a red fox
dash across
the detergent aisle

zero calorie colas
hydro electric tonics
hot pink beverages
caffeinated sugar drinks
flavored water with slick labels
and one tiny section
dedicated to
our bottle says
"product of local
municipal water source"
(might as well
drink out of the

we buy it anyway
just so as to
not to be noticed
by the zombies as we
attempt to leave

up front
the only way out
is thru computer check points
where we get in line
with the other zombies
and pay the machine
bag up the water
give ourselves a receipt
and thank ourselves
for shopping there

(as we leave
i see
a raccoon peeking out
from behind a stack
of canned meat)

two bras
a pretty blouse
various jewelry
and a pair of high heeled shoes
are now on the cop cars hood
when i look inside
i see a young deer
looking forlornly
out the window

we drive off with our
and i wonder about
the squeaky wheel the rest
of the night



Lost and Fire Starter--SOULD

big oily mess on canvas


tomorrow is my monthy newslettr

with lots of new art and photos from the desert southwest...

(join above if u like this sorta crap)




The Present---SOULD

oily on wood about 31 x 24 inchesesesss


finished winter of 1623 in Jamestown where i lived in a cave until i met a cherokee bride



A Desert Dawg wonders about the Cosmos (sould)

big oily on loose canvas


its not that i dont care

what people think about planets

or the millions of galaxies in the sky

or even the color of the stars

its just that i mostly wonder what the desert dawgs think

when they look up into the cosmos

while they are standing in an arroyo

barking at the moon



More art



june 3 2013----Terror in Treasure Cave---SOULD

oily on wood

lots more new art by clikn rite hear


mariachis everywhere
in the back seat
while filling up gas
going to the restroom
even at my bedside
when i woke up

in a dark room
at a cheap hotel
my brightest memory
covering ourselves
with liquid sulphur
like sexy devils

thai food, indian food,
mexican food, fancy breweries,
italian noodles & vegan eateries...
it was the mariachis
extolling the value
of love and bravery
that led us to Dennys

a lady with a german accent
who did a white glove test on her table
while mumbling
"they can do better than this"
moved in right behind us
where i heard her inspect
my long hair for ticks

no talking just eating
the wirey husband
wearing black rim glasses & a fedora
voraciasly ate panjakes & eggs
with sausage on the side
as though chlorestoral
was the cure

my healthy heart dinner arrived
a leafy green salad
swimming in an ocean
of white dressing
with a boat of bacon
on top

that night in a dream
the old man
turned around at the table
staring thru his glasses at me
dismissively uttering the word
my worst nightmare

when i awoke the next morning
the mariachis were still playing
but willie nelson had joined them
singing On the Road again
a hint to get the hell
out of town

taking the wrong road home
we tumbled a thousand feet
off the side of a mountain
landing on wild horse mesa
where the mariachis dusted
themselves off and began
playing a lovely song
about the beauty of nature
prompting the mustangs
who were wearing blue sombreros
to rise up on their hind legs
and dance a
final dance
with us


join my monthly art first look and a story from the newslettr by clikn rite hear



oily on wood


clik hear for the best selling world famous million seller book here about my art



Raw Vision---SOULD

big multicrappia mess on canvas



Rez Dawg

about 4 foot long



May 22 2013----BLue BoAts---SOULD

is real big bout 6 foot by 9 foot

oily mixd up mess


some people dont think
my jokes are funny at the flea
but today the tv station in my head
is tuned to Hee Haw
where the audience always laughs
and the music never stops
earning me the reputation
of the funniest flea market painter
in the world

if someone doesnt save me
im going to do
what everyone else does
in the end

i sit down after the show
and pour a tall glass
of low fume paint thinner
mixed with a tiny bit
of red cadmium
with a chaser of varnish
careful not to drink
so much that i become
a sad caricature of yet another
drunken stand up comedian
banjo playing painter
at a flea market

returning to my easel
Roy Clark and Buck Owens
break into a banjo jam
picking and a grinning
while i paint a brilliant chicken
which we will have for dinner later
while watching Ricardo Montelban
explain the wonders of corinthian leather
in his Chrysler Cordoba

a commercial break interupts Ricardo
singing that
"for the time of our lives"
i should get a camera
so i can remember all the crap
i cant get out of my head
40 years later

i begin to paint
three red finches
sitting on a horse
contemplating their existential fate
when Conway Twitty breaks in
with a song of hard luck and lost love
that breaks my heart
and moves the birds so deeply
that they put on their tiny cowboy hats
and begin swaying back and forth
in a line dance
on the horse

while i weep softly
at the beauty
of the red finch line dance
Vanna White begins moving slowly
from one painting to another
simply smiling and pointing
at the art
returning all promise and hope
to my life despite protest from
other vendors that she
is an unfair advantage
which i explain i will need
to make it this year

Eating Tacos at the Flea






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