Stank Mania RSS

Digital Artwork - Untitled xi

Wed, 24 Jun 2026 19:20:00 -0400

Artwork - Untitled-A14

Thu, 21 May 2026 15:40:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Untitled x

Sun, 10 May 2026 12:20:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Little Miss Minimalist

Sun, 3 May 2026 17:20:00 -0400

Artwork - Frankenstein's Terrible Beast

Mon, 27 Apr 2026 19:35:00 -0400

Poem - A Hopeless Madness

Fri, 27 Mar 2026 20:05:00 -0400

I am standing at the precipice of madness
Without water or glass I've forgotten the human face
Eh! - what use is its memory?
It only served mockery

In this empty white desert
What emotions can I savor?
None - now numbness shrouds all sensations
No answers can be found here - in my present
Nor do I expect to taste a future

So what else do you expect from me?
The past is the only place I can go
To search for some semblance of meaning
Wander through purified abstractions
And dream of...

my cheeks sore from smiling
the smell of pollen and perfume
the laughter for crudeness
eyes stimulated in orgasm
the taste of hot rain
the sight of gray skies turning blue
blades of grass scratching my ankles
human skin... a human face...

No! - a useless memory! - a farce and fantasy!
Perverted obsessions diluting my grand exile!
So easy to shift my gaze into its soft dreamland
To attribute pain to the present alone
And forget that anguish has been my one unending company

These memories and dreams of joy
They want nothing to do with me
This stagnant jagged embrace of sand
With its apathetic winds and emotionless dunes
It buries hope alive - suffocating it slowly

Until the slight shift of its dead heart
Holds the pattern of a whale's song
The desert's comforting hymn of hopelessness
Its directionless kiss
With milk nurturing madness

Digital Artwork - Untitled ix

Fri, 13 Mar 2026 04:35:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Second Twins

Wed, 25 Feb 2026 15:25:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Untitled viii

Wed, 25 Feb 2026 15:25:00 -0400

Artwork - Untitled-A13

Tue, 17 Feb 2026 15:40:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Hummingbird

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 18:30:00 -0400

Intro to New Year 2026 - State of the Stank Address

Wed, 14 Jan 2026 17:20:00 -0400

Happy new year. I know it's been a while since I've written one of these but I thought I'd give you an actual update. I've decided to restart the YouTube channel, I attempted to do so last year but I ended up losing focus and just canned the whole thing. This year I want to keep it more focused, sticking with digital speedpainting and animation. I've had a subtle knack for animating for a while now and I've been recently itching to actually make something worth seeing. Along with a revitalized channel I've decided to post on Newgrounds. With this, there is a caveat, the Newgrounds account will ONLY be used for digital art and animation. This is mainly because I've always viewed my digital work as supplemental to my traditional work (which is my main focus). Other than that, expect the usual doses of art, poems, (and now animations) in the future.

One more thing, I won't be linking the YouTube or Newgrounds accounts at the header like I would previously do. These accounts are (as disgusting as it sounds) basically marketing gimmicks so it wouldn't make much sense to link people from this site to those sites. However, animations will have their own dedicated pages on this site.

YouTube

Newgrounds

Digital Artwork - One of Many Synthetic Men

Thu, 8 Jan 2026 16:00:00 -0400

Poem - Charybdis iii

Thu, 8 Jan 2026 15:40:00 -0400

The roads are littered with the wasted pigs,
I suppose the farmhouses were too rank?
Plains and forests are mush, polluted with dew and rain
I’d prefer to sleep through this spring
and pass by the soaked sunflowers and swine skulls
Of course, you - my dream; I still taste your salt and milk
and my mind is arrested by the memory of your orgasm
I can only recall, like a tick in the fields, a sound
Your image has become a phantom, ambiguous
abstract - whirling in a wilderness wet of mucus and semen
A shining spirit of shape and color unbound
Untamed by space but slave to time - my time, at least
I doubt your dream will see a day past the season
These boiling, bleeding beasts - the last of my 'fellow man' !
I wonder if the body rots before the brain

Artwork - Untitled-A12

Mon, 3 Nov 2025 15:13:00 -0400

Poem - The Men Under the Setting Moon

Thu, 23 Oct 2025 23:25:00 -0400

The parliament halls swell
with seizing men squeezed through its doors,
squirming to gaze in grief
at the setting moon

The last shutting eye of heaven
that shed no tears in twilight

for they were gifted
to your neighbours

Retreat for a day

Listen to their petty squabbles...
Behold - Fear! Their gruesome masks hid failure?

Death holds no honor for them
Yet you stay content in your shared mediocrity!

Artwork - Untitled-A11

Fri, 3 Oct 2025 18:21:00 -0400

Poem - Timeless

Fri, 19 Sep 2025 13:30:00 -0400

Farewell your life - I bid you remain timeless
Without desires to chase - Or wisdom to aspire
You are bound to us - Convicted by our will
Our mechanism - This now constant state
Relish in losslessness - Rejoice in sedation
Nevermind mourning - We ensure you are forgotten
Your works will die - Along with their tears

Artwork - Untitled-A10

Wed, 3 Sep 2025 14:40:00 -0400

Artwork - Untitled-A9

Tue, 12 Aug 2025 21:06:00 -0400

Poem - To the Blessed Peoples whom Witnessed the Greatest Tragedy

Tue, 12 Aug 2025 21:05:00 -0400

I carelessly reclined against your stomach
as you serenaded the ache of age and air

But, soon as I interrupted your selfish song
and began my woeful whisper

Your fair face flushed in fright
Like you groped gutted guts from a butchered bore

Ignoring your cringe and scowl I sighed…

“How was that eleventh of September?
To see those tumbling towers-
crumbling and cascading
into meaningless conflicts?
To witness each second
of the century’s metamorphosis?
I envy you dearly-
for even in a trillion lifetimes
my eyes will never be treated to such treasures.”

Of course in your wine-aged wisdom
you had no song nor word to give to me!

Artwork - Untitled-A8

Thu, 31 Jul 2025 20:05:00 -0400

Article - Why I'm Titling My Work Less

Mon, 28 Jul 2025 21:00:00 -0400

You may have noticed that since the start of this year I've been titling my work less. The reasons for that are simple and I will list them for you.

1. I feel that a title gives away too much information about a piece, even if it's one word
2. I feel that a title can restrict the viewers imagination and analysis of a piece
3. I feel that prescribing words to a naturally wordless medium is unnecessary, except for specific instances
4. I feel that I should lower any language barrier that my work may be inflicted by

Article - Intellectual Property Does Not Exist

Mon, 28 Jul 2025 21:00:00 -0400

I originally posted this on a forum in March, enjoy.

The idea of owning ideas is absurd and outdated. Nobody owns ideas, King Kong was created in the 1930s by Merian C. Cooper, Willis O'Brien, and many other men and women. Most, if not all, of these people are dead and yet the 'intellectual property' of King Kong is owned by a company, full of people whom had nothing to do with King Kong's creation. I don't understand why people believe this is right in any way. How is it right to be able to 'sell' and 'purchase' ideas, when ideas aren't physical. It'd be like if I tried to sell my words to you, except that's a bad analogy because words and phrases are for sale! Names and phrases can be trademarked, bought, and sold for money. If you run a sport, you better not have your announcer say 'Let's get ready to rumble!'.

Companies believe that they are more righteous than 'regular people', who may want to create something with their 'IP', even though they usually have little influence behind the original idea. This is why I will never copyright any of the art I create, never. My art, if I'm lucky, will outlive me and carry a legacy of its own. In my honesty, I cannot taint that with a '©' hanging above any of it. I do not believe I am above anyone who would potentially want to reuse and remix an idea that I've created or helped to create. Now, I am not saying that creators shouldn't receive any credit, all creators of that original idea should be credited, but fraud and copyright infringement are two very different things. It's one thing to take an idea and claim it's yours, it's another thing to take an idea and acknowledge its original creator whilst reusing and recycling it.

Now, maybe if these silly copyright laws didn't exist, the world would be more saturated with the same 'intellectual properties' in art, film, games, novels, music, etc. but that's honestly a good thing. The world having more creations based on the same ideas would allow for four things.

1. A better chance of that original idea to survive
2. More variations of that idea to enjoy
3. A desire to create more new ideas in response to the amount of reused ideas
4. Less 'worship' of the 'IP' holders (Look at how many people show up to those D23 events)

(As an aside, many classic artworks, stories, and songs are without copyright, and yet we can point to their originators, while also enjoying different variations of them.)
I feel like I'm in the minority in this belief (If I called it an opinion it would seem like this is some preference in fashion). I'm curious to what you may think. Am I a fool for thinking this?

Artwork - Untitled-A7

Wed, 16 Jul 2025 18:55:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Untitled vii

Thu, 12 Jun 2025 01:35:00 -0400

Article - What Was I Thinking?

Sun, 8 Jun 2025 22:15:00 -0400

I haven't written any articles this year because I'm not really sure how to articulate myself. I have many thoughts that I would like to share but I just can't find the right words. The formal spoken word isn't exactly my best language. Something I've thought of on this journey of mine is how foolish I was to try and 'analyze' or 'interpret' art that I love. I was very stupid to try and explain away a wordless medium. I sincerely apologize and I do not intend to 'review' art ever again beyond a simple endorsement.

Artwork - Untitled-A6

Fri, 16 May 2025 21:50:00 -0400

Artwork - Untitled-A5

Sun, 4 May 2025 14:15:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Untitled vi

Thu, 3 Apr 2025 20:53:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Untitled v

Thu, 30 Mar 2025 15:20:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Untitled iv

Thu, 20 Mar 2025 19:00:00 -0400

Artwork - Untitled-A4

Thu, 20 Mar 2025 11:50:00 -0400

Poem - Charybdis ii

Fri, 14 Mar 2025 18:40:00 -0400

I remember being in your bed, before I left.
Laying in a pool of sweat
Dreaming of some nonsensical thing
I woke up in a slumbering dizziness
Drunk off of your milky white tears
I saw you, still sleeping in that unfavorable position
Leaving no appendage closed, a careless symbol
In that moment, your body disgusted me
I noticed your protruding bones and swallowed stomach
A corpse-like display, orchestrated by farts and snores
Minimal moments of mourning your beauty flew by
Before presenting you the lonesomeness that you’ve given me before
I'm slightly saddened by this loss of your tears
But you must be happy, with your appetites appeased
and that I am here. Writing this in the autumn snow with my odored piss

Poem - Charybdis i

Thu, 13 Mar 2025 19:00:00 -0400

On the cold concrete painted in summer heat
I quivered with my fair skin glowing in the dull noon
and near my callus feet lay a decomposing mass
what seemed like an equine with its rotten erect antlers pointed toward me
soon its bloated belly began to burst with sobbing grubs
I felt my neck strain and swell as the rancid infant insects danced around my toenails
soon the beast's shining melted eye commanded my kneeling
I slunk toward him with his saluting horn nearly penetrating my scalp,
and opened his mouth, his caved gullet seemed absent of any muscle or mucus
In some sort of romance or curiosity I sunk my eye into its maw and saw no light nor color
so I placed my ear against his sagging throat and heard
The sound of your stuttering breath and a trillion teardrops
I leapt in shock out of my hypnotized state
as the bleeding creature began to seize and quake
I fled from its terrible animation, avoiding anything living or dead in fear of its haunting.

Artwork - Untitled-A3

Thu, 13 Mar 2025 19:00:00 -0400

Artwork - Untitled-A2

Fri, 21 Feb 2025 20:30:00 -0400

Artwork - Hiersumnes and Þrowing; The Twins

Sat, 15 Feb 2025 14:15:00 -0400

Artwork - Untitled-A1

Mon, 3 Feb 2025 7:45:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Untitled iii

Sat, 13 Jan 2025 21:11:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Untitled ii

Sat, 4 Jan 2025 19:40:00 -0400

Artwork - The Leviathan and the Dragon's Luncheon

Fri, 25 Oct 2024 21:00:00 -0400

Artwork - Stairs

Mon, 6 Oct 2024 16:10:00 -0400

Article - Review of Gustav Klimt's 'Idylle'

Sat, 5 Oct 2024 15:25:00 -0400

It is my belief that Gustav Klimt's 'Idylle', painted in 1884, is the greatest painting in the world. It is my favorite piece. It tells such a mysterious and gorgeous story. The composition is symmetrical but in the center is another composition. Outside of that composition sits two naked men, they both prop up a circular frame. Inside that circle is the composition of a woman and two children. Presumably the woman is their mother, and the two children are the two men outside the circle, brothers.

The mother is seen giving one of the children a necklace, she has her back turned to his older self. That same man has his face turned away from the circle in scorn, as if he resents her for something. He's also not properly holding the circle the way his brother does. Both of the brothers are wearing a sheet, similar to what the mother wears.

The composition inside the circle is more saturated and colorful than the outside. The circle is flourished in a natural lush while the outside is decorated in plucked flowers and engraved leaves, like a dull imitation of the past. In terms of draftsmanship this piece is excellent, no detail is spared. Klimt exudes all of his knowledge in Idylle and it is certainly more 'realistic' when compared to his other, more well known, works.

https://www.wikiart.org/en/gustav-klimt/idylle-idylls-1884

Artwork - A Portrait for Azriella

Wed, 2 Oct 2024 20:00:00 -0400

Artwork - The Gnome of Mushrooms; The Lady of Flowers

Wed, 18 Sep 2024 18:00:00 -0400

Artwork - Bette Meets Her Son

Sun, 15 Sep 2024 16:10:00 -0400

Poem - Meaningless Oceans

Sat, 14 Sep 2024 15:50:00 -0400

Watching my bride's life dissapear
without pain or control, I wept;
A 'passion' is not joy's equal

And sorrow is a great passion
one of many foes to wisdom;
tears are the body's gold bounty

The horde where my body is cast
as I behold my son beaten
or my beloved daughter raped;

How could I shift my focused mind
for these things I cannot control?
my lips dare not quiver in vain!

Article - Defining Art

Sat, 14 Sep 2024 14:35:00 -0400

I believe that anything created (manipulated would be a better word since nothing is "created" if you think about it) by man can be considered 'art'. What you find aesthetically pleasing is slave to your own subjectivity.

If you were to take a piece of paper, rip it, and call it art; I would have no reason to disagree with you. If you took that same paper and drew a line and called it art, I would have no reason to disagree with you. If you took that piece of paper and drew a portrait and called it art, I would have no reason to disagree with you. In each scenario, you hold a piece of paper in your hand, a piece of paper that has been manipulated by you. This is what creates art.

What separates that single line from the portrait is draftsmanship. Draftsmanship is often confused for artistry. I see draftsmanship as a perfectly put together table that never wobbles or shifts, and artistry as a painted table with beautiful men holding up each leg with engraved flowers and wings, though it may be subject to light wiggles and turns. Each is a piece of art, but they exist at different points on a spectrum. On one end is pure abstractionism on the other end is pure realism. Whether you are more receptive to one end or the other is up to you, but I urge you not to dismiss the other as "not art".

Creativity is toward the 'abstract' end of the spectrum. Invention is the near opposite to adaptation. As an aside, creativity is not truly "creativity", for ideas are simply remixed memories in imagination; how could I paint a story of a knight and princess if I have never heard of such things? There is no true originality, there are only masks of originality.

The first objective of art is to exist, the second objective is up to the artist. You as the viewer do not have to subjugate yourself to the second objective, but as a human, you must honor the first objective. Notice how neither objective is to be pretty or beautiful, or to capture a likeness; these are up to the artist.

Art is human, and with the rise of AI "generated" (in a similar way to humans, AI doesn't generate anything, it merely remixes) "art", I feel the need to clarify this. Art is the thumbprint of the soul, art cannot be the thumbprint of a machine, for machines will never have a soul. Isn't it funny how we used the term CGI when CGI doesn't literally mean CGI, but we are now in the age of literal CGI?

Art should not be a complimentary word. Anytime I hear "this is art" said as a compliment, I roll my eyes. Of course the work is art! What ought to be said is "This art is great because".

Art may be owned physically, but spiritually there is no ownership of art (this is why I despise the idea of "intellectual property").

I am strong in these beliefs, so strong that I get angry whenever I read or hear someone claim what art is when they are clearly coming from a place of ignorance. It seems as if people want to be up in arms about what art is "meant to be" when they are offended by some abstract work, rather than searching the meaning in their own inquisition. I plead, I beg, and I urge you to discover and seek art.

Artwork - The Queen Madison

Thu, 5 Sep 2024 20:42:00 -0400

Artwork - Its Second Nature

Mon, 26 Aug 2024 13:15:00 -0400

Artwork - The Ordered Mauling of Azriella

Sun, 18 Aug 2024 14:45:00 -0400

Article - Review of Francis Bacon's 'Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion'

Sun, 11 Aug 2024 10:50:00 -0400

Francis Bacon's 'Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion' is a figurative piece made in 1944. This work is actually three separate paintings that are simply grouped together in one arrangement. Bacon actually repainted this piece and the figures in it a few times.

Three pale, phallic beasts: one without a mouth, the other with one closed, and the third with its mouth agape, yelling or singing upwards into the air. The left figure is perched like a bird, sitting atop a chair dressed in a dull pink cloth. The creature's face is covered by its hair, hiding any potential ominous intent as it looms its face downward. The middle figure is wearing what looks to be a blindfold, maybe it's a towel. It sports a strange grimace, as many figures in Bacon's work do, as it stands above a stool. Before analyzing this piece, I assumed that the bird-like beast was sitting on top of a sort of tripod, for lack of a better word. Looking at this piece extensively, it looks as if those elongated needles are actually the creature's legs. The stool itself also has a sort of confusing nature in its shape, as the right of it can be seen as the shadow or as an extension of its legs.

The figure on the right is my favorite of the three, sporting the most unique lighting and composition. It also has an amazingly rendered face. The bottom portion of its body is shaded in such an oblique way that it makes the creature seem like an inanimate object of some kind; its strange needle leg also gives this impression. Its leg is staking a patch of grass, which has no surrounding shadow, giving it the vibe of a bad Photoshop job. I mean this as a compliment because that aspect gives the piece the aesthetic of an ethereal, liminal dream.

What also gives the piece that aesthetic is the use of color, the background is a harsh and saturated orange, which contrasts well with the pale creatures. Also in the background are these strange lines, probably used to thumbnail a background of some kind (the artwork is titled as 'a study'). The direction in which the beasts are facing is interesting, with the left and right figures facing the middle and the middle creature looking at the viewer. I'm not too sure what these figures are meant to be, symbolically speaking. The two figures to the left have a bird-like quality to them; the middle figure even looks like it has a wing. Unlike the creature on the rightmost side, they are atop a table or stool, elevated above the right beast as it yells upward. I'm not too sure what this could mean, especially in relation to the title. Despite this, I will forever be entranced by this and many other pieces from Francis Bacon.

https://www.francis-bacon.com/artworks/paintings/three-studies-figures-base-crucifixion

Artwork - Penance

Sun, 11 Aug 2024 10:50:00 -0400

Poem - The Stained Lips

Sun, 11 Aug 2024 10:50:00 -0400

During the nostalgic turquoise winter
with soft, pink clouds and sighing winds;
Her nude legs were crowned a skirt of badges
poached from the soldiers' soaked corpses

Her lips were stained with blood of patriots
she sang, praising the taste of flesh
as her breasts flushed red at the sight of me;
She offered me the Kaiser's head

For food or a trophy, she did not mind;
Her dumb, joyous gaze compelled me
I kissed her, melting in that copper taste,
Her tongue plunged my singed throat; I cried

Digital Artwork - Azriella's Remodeling and Crowning

Tue, 6 Aug 2024 8:36:00 -0400

Article - Review of Odd Nerdrum's 'Return of the Sun'

Tue, 30 Jul 2024 17:40:00 -0400

Return of the Sun is a neo-barqoue painting created by Odd Nerdrum in 1985. This piece features a beautifully desaturated warm color palette as well as excellent composition. This piece's composition leads your eyes into almost a left facing 'C' shape. It's perfectly lit, depth is conveyed well through the lighting and perspective of the subjects and the background. As with most of Nerdrum's work, everything is rendered with clarity to a precise quality.

There are quite a few things that 'Return of the Sun' could mean. Please keep in mind that with my reviews I make no attempt to explain any piece, I'm merely presenting you my own interpretation. The three women, presumably sisters, are standing atop some sort of tower as they greet a returning sun, as the title suggests. The sister on the right seems to be impaired in some way, perhaps blinded by the sun that she and her sisters delightfully adore. Something to note is how all three women flex their pinkie finger in a certain way, the two sisters on the left pose their hand with their left while the leaning girl on the right poses her hand with her right hand.

This may be completely meaningless, but something I've noticed is how the two curved clouds are almost like the rings that accompany a mushroom cloud. Their is a sort of sadness in the right sister's face that isn't present in the other two. I believe that she is at the heart of the artwork. To me, this piece could be a symbol of today's joy being tomorrows pain, how something as beautiful as the sun can delight but also harm and destroy. Maybe that is too obvious of a meaning to draw from this piece.

Perhaps you could also see it as an allegory for 'seeing' God. How when you're younger you welcome it, but as you're older you begin to stumble and maybe aren't as quick to welcome it. Or this image is a more simple symbol of the older and impaired feeling the same sensations that 'normal' and younger people do, but simply can't express their joy as coherently. One last idea, maybe this piece is about a never ending chase of beauty or purity, with the three different aged sisters reaching for something they can't have but desperately desire. Even the eldest still succumbing to the same instinct when she barely has the strength to reach for it.

'Return of the Sun' is one of those paintings I could stare at for days on end as I question everything it presents. Odd Nerdrum is a master of this, drawing your eyes into a complex or simple story depending on what you see in the image. Art is the ultimate Rorschach test, even when it isn't abstract. Nerdrum understood this, whether consciously or unconsciously.

Artwork - Corset

Tue, 16 Jul 2024 17:17:00 -0400

Artwork - Affinity for Infinity

Thu, 20 Jun 2024 20:00:00 -0400

Poem - Stones of the Well

Thu, 20 Jun 2024 20:00:00 -0400

Deep in the blackest well
nearest to Sheol, the pit.
I laid against the stone wall

witnessing a single light
which illuminated two:
man and woman, shivering,

naked with tears raining down
at the sight of that single beam
In those days I saw him

kneel before her, with his nose
pressed against her singing tongue
with hands splayed on her belly

and when darkness had appeared
they'd smile and kiss with joy
in retreat to their cold bliss

Digital Artwork - Azriella's Twenty Second Birthday

Wed, 5 Jun 2024 18:20:00 -0400

Artwork - One Million Rebirths

Tue, 21 May 2024 14:55:00 -0400

Artwork - December

Wed, 8 May 2024 20:40:00 -0400

Artwork - Hecatoncheires

Mon, 22 Apr 2024 21:20:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Last Days of Themis

Thu, 18 Apr 2024 20:45:00 -0400

Artwork - Walking Disease

Thu, 18 Apr 2024 20:45:00 -0400

Poem - Thirio VI

Mon, 15 Apr 2024 13:22:00 -0400

The harmony of pale skin
and silk sheets is divine
it is forever unmatched
with its incredible might
suffocating sentience

in this, my lover is gold
as my dark, bronze radiance
shifts into a silver glow
shedding every memory
leaving our pulsating flesh

‘Inside me you'll see your ghost
in you, I see too many
my hauntings will end with you
but yours stay hidden in me
now, and always, we are one'

“I see none divine
a ghost of a witch
now stealing my life

why did I see thee
why do I love thee
why must I forgive thee

I've become a beast
your disgusting mutt
yearning for a feast”

‘Behold this body I've made
a wall no ghost may enter
I will share my silver heart
let you engulf it inflames
and gnaw until your teeth ache'

O, my dearest Thiria
“O, my dearest Thiria”
behold my true golden crown
“behold my true silver crown”
let two bodies share one heart
let two minds share one body

Artwork - Lucia

Sat, 13 Apr 2024 13:40:00 -0400

Artwork - The Golden Tears

Tue, 5 Mar 2024 18:30:00 -0400

Artwork - Deáþscyldig

Fri, 8 Dec 2023 13:10:00 -0400

Poem - Thirio V

Thu, 30 Nov 2023 9:00:00 -0400

What a perfect meal
prepared by this pretty boy,
it would be impolite to eat
this beautifully cooked food without the proper toast

I think I'm aware
that you're meant to hold the cup
and bang it against the table
after that you hold it high and sing a sweet song

Now that I've recalled the steps, I will do it;
O bless this boy he recognizes the ritual
but I have no prayer to sing to this beautiful man
My tongue is too filthy to pray to a good God
Though, I do not know what god he adores

'Bless'd be this meal and this boy
I know nothing of thy nature
but I know that thou art watching
so we give many thanks to thee
and we ask thee for thy mercy!'

The boy seems happy,
sipping his drink as I do
His lips are so plump yet angled
Watching him eat and drink makes me yearn for his tongue

“There is not a need to pretend
if thou does not know of my god,
I am this village's dancer
not a crusader or zealout
I haven't the strength to be one“

I am just amazed
all I know were crusaders
and zealouts that robbed me of life,
but how can i trust that this boy is not the same?

'My boy, how rude of me to eat
this meal that you've prepared for us
without me knowing thy name or
thee not knowing my name either,
my name is Thiria, what's yours?'

“Thiria is a lovely name,
I am known as Eáthropho
If I may ask, where art thou from?
You seem to be a traveler,
but I see thou brought no luggage“

'I suppose that would be correct,
and I bring no luggage because
I've simply none to bring with me,
also, I'm not from anywhere
I've no life befor emeeting thee'

“Strange, how does someone have no life?
Is one, simply, in some deep sleep?
Or is there no trace of feeling,
those feelings that fill all our lives?
Perhaps there is a lifeless mind?“

he cannot understand my lifeless nature,
all of my sorrow and woe, my aches and misery
That hellscape, my prison, that I endured for a lifetime
To this boy, I am a woman, not some monster
I need him, Eathropho, my lover

'I cannot show my liflessness
but I must say Eáthropho,
I think that we should go to bed,
leave all of this philosophy,
come here Eáthropho my love'

Digital Artwork - Emily's Ballad

Thu, 30 Nov 2023 9:00:00 -0400

Artwork - Christ Crucified

Thu, 9 Nov 2023 17:01:00 -0400

Artwork - Over that Sea of Death, I Saw Her Ghost

Tue, 10 Oct 2023 15:57:00 -0400

Poem - The Sounds of War

Sun, 7 Oct 2023 16:00:00 -0400

My birth was in-between times of war,
almost misplaced. As these wars changed all
things that were once known to men, but I
noticed no 'change' in the world, as I
am a product of these wars. Am I
meant to live as a man or faceless,
hidden under this rough, green, suit?
Regardless of time, those horrid
sounds of war prevail. They bring my
memories back to me in dreams.

Poem - Mr. Entropy

Sun, 7 Oct 2023 16:00:00 -0400

He talked about his distant world unknown
He spoke of these future foolish world wars
Mr. Entropy was his business name
and his business was foretelling changes,
how its nature is to be destructive

He talked about his God's laws of nature
He spoke of his beauty and righteousness
as the law is truth and truth is the law
no paradox nor theory were welcome
for all things upheld all those laws of nature

He talked about the order and chaos
How one cannot be without the other
despite the orders' love and chaos' hate
as just loves unjust and not the reverse,
and he spoke of the irony in this.

Artwork - Meditation of the Beatrice Ape

Wed, 4 Oct 2023 19:00:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Council 552009112335776

Sun, 24 Sep 2023 18:00:00 -0400

Artwork - Allegory for the Bodies of the Wearers of the Masks of Themis and Ozymandias

Mon, 21 Aug 2023 15:21:00 -0400

Artwork - The Crowning of Beatrice

Wed, 2 Aug 2023 15:42:00 -0400

Artwork - Exile

Tue, 25 Jul 2023 23:23:00 -0400

Poem - The Blue Horse Flies

Sun, 16 Jul 2023 7:23:00 -0400

As I worked in that awful concrete box, steam-filled
with metal pipes and automatons, hot and gray
carrying the sewer's stench with that flooded ground,
I went out to throw the waste into the furnace,
with that warm air of the night breathing on my neck,
I heard this sudden sound of farting and wailing
from a distance, in the heavens like an airplane
My heart jolted as I turned my head to witness
this flying blue horse flailing its limbs aimlessly
the beast had no conscious as it wondered its eyes
whilst it sprayed golden feces across the night's sky
How foolish this beast, mystical yet so mindless

and with the next morning
when I left my small home
I saw its blue carcass
resting so peacefully
adorned in its pretty filth
with such a wide grimace

Poem - The Mother with a Past Face

Sun, 16 Jul 2023 7:22:00 -0400

While I ate my meal in the cheerful hall
I witnessed a large family dining,
few children with twice as many adults,
and as I drank from my rusted tin cup
sitting, I beheld one of the mothers

She was older but not so elderly
with features, not unlike younger women
Raven-haired and fair with such tired eyes
that gazed southward as her children babbled

In her face, I saw someone from the past:
a girl from dreadful memories and dreams
the woman that I could never have,
had her beauty personified again
in this tired mother, with passion drained

Artwork - Man Eating the Sun

Wed, 5 Jul 2023 21:19:00 -0400

Poem - Thirio IV

Sat, 1 Jul 2023 10:33:00 -0400

Skin touching the grass,
and hair meeting dirt
How I have missed warmth from the sun
Forgotten,

I have forgotten this earth as it has
Memories have been molded with dreams,
thus creating illusion
witnessing all this life, restoration!
As I am restored

O, how my eyes weep
in joy and triumph
as I have returned to my home
Now I search;

I've roamed for so long,
through the hot desert,
through cold tundras, and the steep cliffs
unseen life?

No life reigns in this Land! No sheep, no dog,
no lion, no fish, nor small insect!
Has life here become extinct?
Have I been inside my hel for so long?
No, it cannot be

I refuse to think
or speak of all this!
I shall lay here under the sun,
and rest now

For if this is truly the end of the earth,
I will not wake as there is no one
No man beside me, no clock,
nor crowing eagle;

I have awoken
thus, life continues
How joyous, to behold the life
of all Man

What do my ears see,
this cheerful singing?
What is this crowd that celebrates?
am I blind?

Why haven't I seen these peoples before?
It doesn't matter, I will not mind
The beauty in all of them,
they are as paintings inside of paintings
O, I long for them

Who is this dancer
pale among the brown?
He seems as an angel of light
I must speak,

though, maybe I shall wait until he's done
The coils in his hair and his blue eyes,
like the sun through colored glass,
illuminates all

He has this certain
graceful form, he's as
a wild, but sophisticated,
horse in air

O, his flips, hist tricks,
his vocals, his cheers
This shall be my eternal love
my husband;

O, how I adore him, must he be done?
But, at last, I may speak to this man
My tongue has rested too long
Though I must know beauty and eloquence
I make my attempt:

'Hello fair dancer, performer
thy songs, cheers, and all thy technique
hath caught my eye and spirit
Thou art so bold and beautiful
with such fancy footwork and cheers

If I am no trouble to thee,
may I join thy court for supper?
Thou art so handsome and pretty,
I shall learn much more about thee
I wish to be thy company'

It's truly been long
so I hope my tongue
is pleasing to this dancer's ear
he responds:

“I thank thee for thy kindness, and
thy boldness to come speak with me
my heart swells with pleasure and joy
at this proposition from thee
of course you may come to mine home“;

I'm in true awe at this golden palace,
this dancer boy lives as a high king
I shall make my abode here
and be as a queen

His home is as a cathedral, a church,
where we shall worship our own bodies
we will melt and be solid,
become as gold ourselves, and celebrate
For we will be one

Digital Artwork - Decree iii

Fri, 30 Jun 2023 15:33:00 -0400

Digital Artwork - Decree ii

Wed, 28 Jun 2023 16:31:00 -0400

Poem - Tin Halo

Tue, 20 Jun 2023 21:38:00 -0400

Come my son, my prince, sit on my lap.
Listen to these words I speak,
you know the given nature of your birth?
That one day, when I pass on
you will inherit everything here,
and become lord of this land.
Many will spit at you and condemn you,
so you must be strong, my son.
Although, many will still adore you,
and rush to kiss both your feet.
All their love could be a veil for deceit,
and their passions may be vain.
So beware of liars and drunkards,
as you proclaim this kingdom.
Wear kindness and love as your shield and sword.
Marry a single maiden,
virgin, soft, and lovely, to adore.
You will know no prostitute,
nor a widow, nor witch, nor concubine.
You will rule this land, my son,
but you must learn to rule yourself too.
Your servants and crowds may turn,
but you must never turn on your own crown.
Don't betray this tin halo.

But father, how much?
How much is it worth?
This land or this wealth?
For this metal hat,
is no true halo.
None of this metal,
nor any woman,
or adored subjects,
shall exalt this crown

or the head it rests upon.
We may be high-hailed as kings,
but we are still damned as men.

Artwork - Ruiner

Thu, 15 Jun 2023 17:56:00 -0400

Poem - Thirio III

Sat, 12 Jun 2023 12:30:00 -0400

I am ruined in regret and sorrow, though
as rough stone is purified, I may be refined
I must shave my imperfection with knives
and tear into myself with swords, molding beauty
with the ugly, dirtiest, wounded hands that mock themselves

I will eat myself whole
to birth myself, and make all new
I will have unmarked and clean beauty

I shall capture the hearts of all living men
and make jealous, all the whores, maidens, and women
O, how beautiful I will become now
How natural, created by my own two hands
Now I shall mold, tear, and punish myself in spite and lust;

The feeling is tender
I laugh joyfully as I howl
at this sensation I've given to myself

I have no tears to shed, I'm made in beauty
I am as wild fire is made into a lamp
Despair, is now hope, and pain is pleasure
Though I am in vain beauty, it is beauty
As my passion still bellows and wails in this spiteful lust

I shall come back to earth
and kiss the grass another day
For I am made into beauty again