Eggs, I need a monkey.

Eggs of a certain blue hen


Monkeysaurus


I need an adult

Oh Boy...

Secret Alphabet

The Demon inside my head...

An corpse of a flower..."To die when unto perfection grow"...(Shakespeare)

Destroyer! Galaga style

Unfortunately I couldn't figure out anything for I need an adult....Sorry

MonkeySaurus-es-es-es-es-es-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s

Sock Monkeysaurus!

Monkey no like costume with Breakfast coffee.

What's the plural of that again?

Exquisite destroyer of ego with secret needs...

Destroyer of rice crispy treats


Exquisite Corpse



My ego is my biggest demon. Its stands tall and hovers over my deepest and dearest desires, casting an impenetrable shadow and blocking my vision. We’ve been through this so many times now, I resist as always. I stomp and scream and spit. I even turn around; if I do not acknowledge it then it can’t possibly be validated and exist. Mockingly it steps back in a gesture of obedience when I scream for it to go away. That’s part of the game you see. It can only grow stronger if it allows me the illusion of winning some ground.

Somehow I always turn back around; maybe it’s a momentary flash of naïve victory. When our eyes lock, it freezes me put. My legs can’t budge even when my mind is pleading for freedom. I’m locked in place and cannot move as it swaggers towards me. That moment hurts the most, for you realize that you created this monster and aren’t strong enough to stop it.

Its gnarly claws inch their way towards my neck with intent to nullify my true intentions. It smells so sweet and numbing, but cheap all the same. It smells so universally common so appropriate and safe. It smells so artificial like the syrup that creates soda that my teeth sting in response. It begins to stuff me with so much waste I feel like I will burst open. Instructions, excuses, and scripted conversations.

I don’t know how the notion of self first invaded my reality. It’s not so much a notion of being but of subscribing attributes to this self that were prescribed by collective society and negating the mental flexibility to expand cognitively. Rather my ego selfishly grapples at my conscious mind for full control. All the noise it creates distracts my ability to truly connect to the rhythm of the natural world that surrounds me. Your ego is your mind’s feeble attempt to control you.

I fight back though by forcefully spitting this gunk back out and into its eyes. While it is blinded I take the opportunity to step back a few steps to pick up speed and charge straight through it. I close my eyes upon impact; I’m still too scared to look while we collide. One day I’ll be able to pierce it with my own eyes and make it whiter back. Until then the demon will rise up and swagger towards me with the lust of dominance. I will resist.



Secret Alphabet


Need an Adult 1


Need an Adult 2

Holding back my exquisite alphabet

Exquisite Corpse



Holding Back (Inner Demon)



Secret Alphabet

the destroyer of negativity

its ok, i'm not going to shower anyway

In my imagination its the year 9713. We've had three equivalents to 2012. Superficial complaints are now extinct. There's a heightened sense of spirituality and intuition. Common sense is actually common.



I never paint girls.



Zombie Furniture



Pours from Volcanoes


When I don't shower, I grow more connected to the fabrics that protect my body, I become the smell of the Earth, the feeling of the water, the look of the heat.

it's different when your privates shoot fish out it's holes

A New Year.....

Pours out of Volcanoes

When I don't shower I smell like a Flower

Things I don't usually do is FLY

Zombie Chair

In my mind it is 2010...and it's gonna be fun!

Forgive the haziness of the images. I didn't have a scannner just my camera.

bum bum, yum yum

Eat your bum bum

Big bang germination

my imagination is a bundle of dividing cells

What Year is it in your Imagination?

It's 1987.

But in a world where GhostBusting is real!