This experiment was built out of some 350 odd still images of trees shot in Prospect Park this afternoon.

I did this illustration for the holiday greeting card from NovitazInc.

Another experiment in trying to use the motion in the video to compose music around the video.

Quit talking to yourself.

Saw these painter’s coveralls caught in a tree and wanted to preserve the strange comic tragic moment.

I saw god in the food court of the mall, eating his tail and spinning off towards the third mezzanine.

I dreamt of a dog split down the middle like a cell dividing. When I drew it, it looked like two dogs fighting and when I added human legs it seemed like psychological self portrait. I don’t really think to myself anymore. I just bark and growl to myself.

I scraped together a buck fifty and went down the street to buy a poppy seed bagel. It tasted like heaven, but I felt a bit cheated by the hole.

The man who is wounded waits in a dingy little restaurant for the captain who recruited him into the Army. He waits for him nervously, like waiting for a pretty date. He asks the bartender to put two bottles of Champagne on ice. I find it strange that he would spend this kind of money on an Army pay scale and even stranger that the place has Dom Perignon. I woke up once the Captain arrived.

I have a dream about Rocket Propelled Grenades and trying to draw the war. It is a dream about a man who has been wounded.

I saw a man carrying an enormous fish down the street. When he got closer, I realized it was Christmas tree.

I go out where the cold surrounds me and gather softballs, like eggs and then later eat soup.

I have seen this man around the dim winter ballfield. He had a golf club and was beating down the long yellow grass to find lost foul balls. He made a stack of seven or eight of them in the center of the diamond. I think he runs a blog on the minutia of military spending.

It woke up saturday and dreaming of art towns in the greater Europe.

It said, “I miss you, but what were we fighting about?”

She said, “PHo.”

It said “Feh.”

She said, “No PhO.”

It said, “What?”

She said, “Say Feh, but like it’s question mark.”

It said “What?”

She said, “Exactly”

It said, “PHe?”

She said, “More or less yes”

It said, “I love you”

She said, “Feh.”

I pass a man in the winter street wearing shirt sleeves. He is passing a Christmas Tree stand. The music on the tinny speakers is Greensleeves… his shirt is not green.

I’m in the morning window watching them in the wind scribble of streets.

Decorating the white tree, a black ball broke. They remind me of what I’d drawn the night before.

Here come the UFOs. Apparently I’m some sort of Alien.

Is Blackwater just another name for oil?

Yesterday, I strode over puddles in the hot shiver of spitting rain with a few years of drawings and canvases under my arm to mail to Portland, where it probably rains even more.

Some skulls and bones (front and back) for the cogto play with on halloween.

I’m going through all kinds of work to ship off to Nightgallery for a show in December. It’s bringing up all sorts of feelings. In the middle of that I stumbled on this little pressed flower/drawing in a sketch blook. Seemed a nice change of pace from all the vicious work.

Here’s some images from the opening at Artflux on Saturday. It was nice to hang next to my friend Christa Grauer. We had some fun drinking wine and taking pictures by our pictures and later John Kelly sang a Joni Mitchell song on the roof. I’d remembered hearing about him doing a drag tribute to the blue lady, but “drag” doesn’t really give you the picture… I mean this was a beautiful and moving interpretation of one of our finest song writers. I was knocked out. It was very dark, so I had to put the video through many layers of effects and after an afternoon of long renders I settled on this strange ink-like version.

Spent yesterday afternoon hanging these paintings for the next Artflux show on Saturday Oct. 20th. I hope to see some of you there.

There is the moment in the movie where Buster realizes the cannon is pointing at him. He moves out of the cannon’s way, but it is attached by a lanyard to his ankle and moves to the new position. The cannon is still pointing at him. He can not hide…. it is like a ballet of doom.

Hello. Where are you now?

The video is from the tupperware project on Vimeo… wanted to play with upper and lower halves of a figure. This almost works.

Walking down sixth avenue, I came upon a burning pyramid.
“Things are really looking up, ” I thought to myself while looking up.

a new layer over walking in L.A.

This Was this

rework of this painting

This looked like this

a couple of cigar box paintings

I’ve been meaning to shoot the Tribute in Light, but have never gotten around to it till tonight. The music is another garage band attempt.
http://www.futureofthebook.org/itinplace/

The rain was falling with the radio and the T.V. talking about tragedies past and present and I lay on the couch and read while the wind moved the leaves. I ended up shooting this vid and making the soundtrack.

A full moon over blue brooklyn and room full of librarians at Monkeytown where a few of my vids were shown along with the presentation by The Institute for the Future of the Book to the the desk set.

Another Library collab with Chuck Sassoon (before and after)

I found some images of Parisean cemetary medalians and realized that the dead could be reanimated. These dead Europeans cant speak, but they can gesture no… no… no no no.

Just doodling at a wine tasting over the weekend.

Ever changing cigar box painting, chages again.

Same head I’ve been working and reworking all summer.

Library collab with Chuck Sasson

Coke plus albatross to the tune of night music unsleeping.

towered
could never/before
crumpled
(forgiving ,, small)
i changes
over
and over
you have (to) say
this time
pay attention
remembering
someone
dream
you’re breaking
something will
happen

- jill stengel
Someone left this poem as comment on this picture at flickr. Thought I’d share it.

Library Collab with Brian Raszka.

Working on some new Library collaborations, this one I’ve been noodling on for a while. A start from Caroline VK.

this was this… might be something else again later.

Still screwing around with a few paintings.

Mushmoon Poems from Alex Itin and Vimeo.
Four poems from Francis Kirk’s Mushmoon collection.