I’ve drawn bailey a lot over the years, but I’ve never really caught her they way I would want to remember her and today I realized I only have three days to figure out how to paint her and so I set about doing some sketches.
All the time seems to be lapsing and I want to record every moment of her: It’s more like surveillance than photography. Time is the thing and the other day I was trying to take the piss out of Jim Morrison’s Poetry and Rock and Roll ambition in general, and my friend shot me doing a fake Lizard King Sermon, but now with Radio Head’s Haunting Song: Exit Music (for a film) it doesn’t seem like a joke anymore. I feel so helpless against mortality. What kind of master can’t master eternity?
