Writing will almost certainly turn you into an alcoholic. Soon enough, after you’ve spent your last feverish hours coughing up your innards in a dank and dark opium den, you will likely die, penniless, on the street beneath yellow snow — Your old fans having turned into your worst critics…
The unsettling summer of 2020.
Greek Mantas Dancing (acrylic 8X10) Don’t ask me what I’m on.
Fred Barnett / Cat in Aquarium / 3-2-2019