paintings

Photographs adorned like Polaroids, rubbed with Q-tips tipped in acetone. Burnt. Patterns emerging — the grain of wood, the fingerprint of fire. Feelings. Postures. Who are you? Why am I? Something beautiful. Something royal. Portraiture painted with feeling, seen, scenes through a glass, and then broken. The glue that holds it from falling apart is like asphalt patch on the highway.