if i let this pen wander with my mind it is aimless.
let it go.
my purpose is purposelessness; i believe so completely in nothing that nothing itself is cast into oblivion
...everything emerges
...this illogic is my revolution.
as long as i remain senseless, incomprehensible, raving-lunatic-mad,
i can continue to offend the statis in society, the status quo (the fucking man).
to be so intrigued by absurdity that i am consumed and become absurd too.
to let the mundane ugly and the unispired be the divine of my semi-constructed reality.
how will i change the world?
by accepting that the world never changes; all of this we've seen before, all of this we'll see again.
people change... get fucked up.
how will i change the world?
i'm fucked up.
i let go.

if i let this pen wander...
i try to channel my love.
i try to visualize a luminous green that emanates from me into everything,
i try to imagine myself as colors and light
...i move beyond my body
i want to dissolve.
one more pill and i'll kill my mind,
then the great illumination- no more color, just light.

if i let this pen wander...
i want to write something dark but i am incapable of despair
faith killed fear.
there is no forever and nothing really matters;
not me and not this world
...grains of sand in a universe i imagine infinite
...i never stop imagining.
what do i believe in?
faith in what?
my imagination, my isolated reality,
the void i see when i close my eyes and try to look at the inside of my eyelids...
would i be crazy if i told you that sometimes the void spirals into a wormhole and i can travel through it at velocities that far exceed the potentials of human physiology?
...so this is astral travel
...but i have no idea where i am going and no idea of where i've been
...crazy.
but if you believe anything is possible.
children are wise.
behind my eyelids i find a cardboard box,
i climb in and fly to outerspace.

I never thought I'm make an entry about this, but more and more people keep asking about it, so I figured I'd write something up to give people easy acess to information. Don't get me wrong, I love it when people at parties recongise me and ask me question about a piece, or commissioning, but parties aren't always the best place to talk shop. There's too many possibilities for misunderstanding :)

So, if you'd like to place an order for a custom piece, the price fluctuates depending on the size of the piece, the complexity of the piece, and the medium. Sounds complicated right? It's not. Here's a quick refernce chart for standard prices


What the quoted price covers:
Photographer's Fee
Model's Fee
Time, Effort and supplies

All prices listed apply for small (8x11) to medium (16x20) art. Larger pieces (20'' or more start @ $300)

	Black & White (Graphite)	Black & White (Acrylic)	Colour (Mixed Media)	Colour (Pencil Crayons)	Colour (Watercolour)	Colour (Acrylic)
A	$35	$95 (US funds)	$60	$45 (US funds)	$75	$105
B	$65	$185 (US funds)	$115	$85 (US funds)	$155	$155 (US funds)
C	$125	$265 (US funds)	$225	$165 (US funds)	$205	$405 (US funds)

Quick definitions:
A - Simple: A simple piece of art has one main 'character' or focus, with very little background. A good example of this would be portrait, or a simple still life. Most Tattoo designs also fall into this catagory.

B - Complex: Has 1-2 characters with a background that fills the whole page. Water, hills, mountains, a simple room, borders, ect.

C - Extreme: Has 2-4 characters of foci in the piece, or with a very detailed background that fill the whole page. A cluttered room, a flower garden, rockfaces/detailed mountains, ect.

A 'Character' can be anything: Dragon, Faery, Unicorn, a portrait, your pet, a sword, ect.'Character' bacically means 'The main object'

All Graphite, Pencil Crayon, Mixed Media and Watercolour work is done on (hot or cold pressed- the choice is yours) 160lb paper.
All Acrylic work is done on Illustration Board or canvas.

How to Order
First off, email me with your idea and image description.
I'll get back to you with a definate price, and flush out all the details of the piece.
Once you have confirmed and sent a minimun of 50% desposite payment (check, money order, or PayPal) I will begin working on your piece.

Once the payment clears I begin shooting with the models. Soon (approx 2 weeks) after that I'll send you a minimum of 3 thumbnails for you to go through and approve.

After you have chosen a thumbnail and give the 'nod of approval' I will move on to the final piece.
When it's done, I send it off to you as soon as I recieve the rest of the balance owing.

If your interested in a finished piece you see in my gallery, simply message me, and I'll tell you all the details if it's availible. Also, alot of my pieces are availible as 8x10 prints ($20 a pop).

Wow, I sundenly feel all uber-art girl.

i don't want to write. things move while words stay, perceptions and situations change and the words become lies. i have to keep conscience on being true, all the time. words have a power to create, they can make illusions become so real.

why do i write something when the first sentence is i don't want to write?

Il est le protecteur des bergers et des troupeaux (représentant symboliquement la Nature), et généralement représenté de la même façon que les satyres avec des pieds de bouc et des cornes.

L’Hymne homérique qui lui est consacré le nomme fils d'Hermès et d'une nymphe, fille de Dryops. Il naît ainsi sur le mont Cyllène, en Arcadie. Devant son apparence monstrueuse, sa mère s'enfuit, mais le père porte son fils sur l'Olympe, où tous les dieux se réjouissent de le voir. Selon l'auteur, ce serait l'origine de son nom. Selon d'autres légendes, il passait pour le fils de Zeus et de Callisto ou de Zeus et de la nymphe Thymbris, ou encore de Zeus et d'Hybris, la déesse de la Démesure. Enfin, suivant des récits postérieurs à l'Odyssée, Pan est plutôt considéré comme le fils d'Hermès par Pénélope qu'Ulysse aurait répudiée en raison de son infidélité, ou bien comme celui qu'elle conçut après avoir cédé successivement à ses cent-huit prétendants [1]. Pour concilier ces différentes variantes, Nonnos de Panopolis imagina l'existence d'une quinzaine de Pan différents, les uns issus du Pan primordial, alors considéré comme le fils de la nymphe-chèvre Amalthée et le frère de lait de Zeus, les autres nés d'Hermès par les nymphes Sosé et Pénélope. [2].

Selon Ovide (Métamorphoses, XI), Pan défie Apollon dans un concours musical jugé par Tmolos, roi lydien, finalement remporté par le dieu lui-même (le concours, avec notamment la présence de Midas, peut être rapproché de celui qui oppose Apollon et Marsyas).

Pan est présenté comme le dieu de la foule, et notamment de la foule hystérique, en raison de la capacité qui lui était attribuée de faire perdre son humanité à l'individu paniqué, et de déchirer, démembrer, éparpiller son idole. C'est l'origine du mot « panique », manifestation humaine de la colère de Pan.

Si l'on attribue à Pan des comportements peu bienveillants, il faut faire abstraction des attentions qu'il portait aux bergers et à leurs troupeaux dont il était naturellement le protecteur.

Le christianisme s'inspira sans doute de l'apparence de ce dieu très populaire, et le « diabolisa » pour lutter contre le paganisme et toute autre tradition religieuse qui résistait à son implantation.

Today I am going to basic training, I am so nervous but this is my job and I have to do it the best that I can...When I get back in July...one of the first things I will be doing is going to a raveeee!!!! HELL YEAH!! I am going to miss that. Well, I'm off! Byeee

My delusions take me further. Why am I alone? I cannot create the world for someone else. I cannot make another believe in this fantasy world, it’s mine, bittersweet in my beautiful solitude. Every mundane form that occupies my space is god and I live in heaven on earth. The cold air freezes my tears to my cheeks; diamonds, the heaviness in my heart is manifest in precious gems. And each tear is exquisite, and my cheeks are rosy from the winter air… my face is painted by the wind and by my heart, the wind and my heart are inseparable.
What are the chances that I can survive in my disillusionment? Today I feel like I could die, from neglect, isolation …the purple haze in my head.

Listening To: dylan

We were born to be alive

People ask me why
I never find a place to stop
And settle down, down, down
But I never wanted all those things
People need to justify
Their lives, lives, lives

We were born to be alive

Time was on my side
When I was running down the street
It was so fine, fine, fine
A suitcase and an old guitar
And something new to occupy
My mind, mind, mind

We were born to be alive
We were born to be alive
We were born to be alive

-Patrick Hernandez

....
"When I was in the holding cell, we only got one pen to share between five guys every other day for only four hours, so when it was my turn, I had no choice whether I felt like it or not; I drew and wrote as much as I could. Only when I got to solitary did they let me buy my own pens. I had one red pen, one black pen, one pencil, and when I started to fiend [for] painting, I used soy sauce from breakfast; for the brush I used the tip of my sock. Months later, I started to use my own urine for the paint and my cock for the brush. It's the same story repeating - the art saved my life." ....

David Choe (speaking about his experience in prison in Japan)

"
I was thinking of picking up young boys, bringing them back to spend the night, kicking them out in the morning. Becoming a den mother to a herd of fourteen and fifteen-year-old near virgins whose chastity would be forever soiled, spoiled as I sucked up little pieces of their soul in exchange for this first real fuck. Supped on their energy like an insatiable bloodsucker whose belly would never fill. Forever assuring me a bookmark in their history as they became a footnote in mine.
"

(Lydia Lunch, Paradoxia; A Predator's Diary)

J’attends et espère le jour ou l’évolution nous sortira enfin de cette folie, et quelle nous mênera vers un monde sans religion, sans préjugé, sans vérités, un monde qui partage, qui est tolérant, respectueux et compréhensif, un monde sans frontières ni origines ethniques, un monde de communion universelle, mais construit d’individus ayant leur pensée propre.

i love you my friends. every day the tribe gets bigger, people connect together and we get closer and closer to each other. i think this is what's most beautiful in the world, i think each of you are the best thing ever. we are the 'one' we've been looking for.

what makes us a family is that we can be who we are. into this unconditionnal love and understanding we can let go of the fear and masks and be true to our hearts. we finally found our place, our words and actions are so real and we have purpose. in this big mission everyone comes with a piece of the puzzle. we are all so important to each other, it's together that we are strong.

we're linked by something strong, the roots we're creating when we dance on the earth, we're from the same mother, brothers, sisters. wait and see... how far can this go. how we can stand in unity in babylone. how we can realize things that seemed impossible.

the world is ours. it's in our hands. do you believe?

Je suis consciente que je ne te connais point.
Que de ton cote, tu ne sais que j'existe.
Pourtant, tu es une partie importante
d'un plan que je cheri depuis tant de matins.

Belle et adorable, tu m'as seduite.
Depuis le jour beni ou elle t'a presente,
j'ai su que j'oublierai toute forme de liberte,
car avec toi je ne desirai pas de fuite.

Me retrouver entre tes bras est un songe.
Ta chaleur qui m'enveloppe sur tes plages.
Mes pieds qui baignent en tes eaux vives et claires.
Je toucherai la paix entre ciel et terre.

Respirer, enfin, le souffle des alizés
et puis, etre bercee sur le Sun Odyssey.
Si belle et adorable Guadeloupe.
Beni soit le soir ou je verrai ton ciel pourpre.

-- 10 fevrier 2007 --

For the past couple of months, I've been having the weirdest dreams I've had in a long time. There's almost always a similar theme, even though they vary wildly; somthing extremely happy, and extreme violence. A lot of them somehow end up with me being at my grandparent's place with someone that I care about and can't get out of my head, and usually mixed up with parts from whatever horror movie I've watched recently. I get them a lot more when I take my painkillers/anti-spasm things for my IBS, so I'm guessing that they're related. The dreams are usually interesting as hell and extremely realistic. I think it goes great lengths towards proving how fucked up in the head I really am that most of the time, these "dreams" are acually split half/half, starting off just a dream and then turning into a nightmare, and that when the nightmare part comes along, and I realise that I'm dreaming, it's like I'm encouraging and goading the dream into being the worst, scariest thing imaginable, because of how much I love horror movies. I just want to see how sick and bizare and scary things can get at that point.

A couple of recent dreams:

A few nights ago I dreamt that I was living with my parents.. They weren't back together, but we were all living in the same house (a place my mother had years ago). Everyone was gone (I think on vacation) and I'd left and come home. For some reason, there's a naked dead girl with her neck broken in the house, that I for some reason associate with me killing her. I get a phone cal from my dad and he says that they're on their way home and will be there any minute now, so I don't have any time to get rid of the body. I end up putting it in the closet of my dad and his GF's room, sitting in the corner kind of like the dead girl at the start of The Ring. I go and sit in my room, and it's completely empty, except for one of those 'A' stepladders in the middle of the room, so I climb to the top and sit there. I start talking with someone about the recent rash of killings that seem to be commited in the neighborhood by a new serial killer, and somehow, even though I don't remember any of the killings, I know I'm the one who did it. As we're talking, my dad's GF finds the body in the closet and freaks out. I go and look to pretend to be innocent, and as I get there, she looks at me and starts to get up and move towards me, and that's when I ended up waking up.

Last night was weird as hell. My grandfather and uncles were bounty hunters hunting for serial killers, and lived in the house they had in Sherbrooke when I was growing up. I was helping them on the case, this guy who was a cannibal. He had his jaw/mouth replaced with a big metal one, kind of reminescant of a bear trap surgicaly implanted where your mouth should be. At some point midway through he finds out we're looking for him and hires someone to go and kill us. I end up being tired and stressed and breaking down from the whole investigation, so I go take a walk outside and for some reason, my ex is there. We start talking and end up getting back together, and then this guy comes out of nowhere and tries to shoot us with a shotgun, but it jams/doesn't fire. I take out my gun and shoot him in the head. We end up going inside and falling asleep on the sofa watching a movie, and then get woken up by my uncle telling me that captured him and that he's in the kitchen, and that's when I actually woke up.

Today is alots like yesterday, but will its be like that tomorow?

Juste avant d'fermer la porte
J'me d'mandais c'que j'oubliais
J'ai touché à toutes mes poches
Pour comprendre que c'qui m'manquait
C'était ni ma guitare
Ni un quelconque médicament
Pour soulager quelque souffrance
Ou pour faire passer le temps
Pis tout au long de l'escalier
Que j'ai descendu lentement
Parce que sans raison j'aurais r'monté
Parce que sans raison j'allais devant
J'étais tout à l'envers
Parce que c'qui m'manquait
C't'ait par en-dedans
J'me sentais seul comme une rivière
Abandonnée par des enfants

Et pis le temps prenait son temps
Prenait le mien sur son chemin
Sans s'arrêter, sans m'oublier
Sans oublier de m'essouffler
Y'a pas longtemps j'étais petit
Me voilà jeune et plutôt grand
Assez pour voir que l'on vieillit
Même en amour, même au printemps
Alors voilà je me décris
Dans une drôle de position
Les yeux pochés et le bedon
La bière sera pas la solution
J'aimerais plutôt que cette chanson
Puisque c'est de ma vie qu'il est question
Finisse un soir dans ma maison
Sur un bel air d'accordéon

Pis les enfants c'est pas vraiment vraiment méchant
Ça peut mal faire ou faire mal de temps en temps
Ça peut cracher, ça peut mentir, ça peut voler
Au fond, ça peut faire tout c'qu'on leur apprend

Mais une belle fin à cette chanson
M'impose de dire c'que j'aurais dit
Si j'avais pas changé d'avis
Sur le pourquoi de mes ennuis
Ben oui, j'allais pour me sauver
Vous dire comment faut être indépendant
Des sentiments de ceux qu'on aime
Pour sauver l'monde et ses problèmes
Qu'il fallait surtout pas pleurer
Qu'à l'autre chanson j'm'étais trompé
Comme si l'amour pouvait m'empêcher
D'donner mon temps aux pauvres gens
Mais les héros c'est pas gratis
Ça s'trompe jamais, c't'indépendant
La gloire paye pour les sacrifices
Le pouvoir soulage leurs tourments

Ben oui, c'est vous qui auriez pleuré
Avec c'que j'aurais composé
C'est une manière de s'faire aimer
Quand ceux qu'on aime veulent pas marcher
J'les ai boudés, y ont pas mordu
J'les ai quittés, y ont pas bougé
J'me sus fait peur, j'me sus tordu
Quand j'ai compris ben chu r'venu

Quand j'ai compris que j'faisais
Un très très grand détour
Pour aboutir seul dans un escalier
J'vous apprends rien quand j'dis
Qu'on est rien sans amour
Pour aider l'monde faut savoir être aimé
J'vous apprends rien quand j'dis
Qu'on est rien sans amour
Pour aider l'monde faut savoir être aimé

How devastatingly easy it is to get lost, to not just let go and be. How fickle and devious the ego can be, one minute here we are everything is fine, then with barely a noticeable arrival we are a thousand miles away in a barren and chimerical place. How much simpler and more peaceful it is upon letting go. No needs, no worries, what will be will just be, it is of no concern to me if there is no me to stop me.

Feeling discombobulated, wet tangents feeling serrated, soon to cease. As if awaking from a semi-identical dream the third time over, the fog is only vaguely apparent and lessening with each apparent passing moment. Sand still clogs eyelids quarter encased. Here we are, we might as well play.

Listening To: Antix

Test

I was a butterfly flying through the sky but then my wing fell off and im not sure why.

Where can it be?

As I search through a darkened room, im filled with loneliness, filled with gloom.
For nobody else is in this room.

No matter what I do I cannot make them come. No one can find my broken body,
and my speckled green wings. I am alone in all of these things,

Waiting for others to break all their things.

J'vais etre généreuse puis ma donner 0,03/10
Les billets devaient être découper dune boite de céréal.
Les speakers devaient être prient d'une boite de céréal (yon petté apres deux heures de musique...).
Le personnel devait avoir aussi été pris dans une boite de céréal (on a atendu 2 heures avant de rentré pour 2 heures de musique).

...
merde ca me coute pas 20$ acheter une boite de céréal crisss

www.freewebs.com/spinsidemtl dear friends and fans this is the site to a demo montreals spinside crew shot last winter tell us what you think! we will be shooting more footage this winter

Peace!

BigWhite