Apocalypse Family

Mamsel in Distress

And so it was when I was in Chicago trying to be a painter – lost work, losing my apartment at 21 years old. I couldn’t get health care unless I was homeless. I couldn’t get help. I felt empty – like I was rusting from the inside, out. My dad had to come get me. And it was that same bastard laughing and calling me crazy to everyone I loved. I wanted to be dead after that, and if you knew the people I lost, maybe you’d understand why I had lost so much hope. But I kept going and I came through to now…that’s what love means to me. Escaping hell, again and again. To be a man. I’m lonely. I stay alive because of a few moments of love when I was 17, 18. I know it makes a difference in a man’s life – I can’t settle for less than what I know is true. I had to lose everything in order to learn to fight for what I love – through violence and betrayal. I fight for love with every step I take and it’s part of everything I create.

Hallas Park

I scored a little plot of land in Washington State. Here I am praying to the landowner to accept my offer. It’s a small lot in an agricultural town. I have chickens and goats for neighbors and the people are poor. That is perfect for me, to blend in as a hermit. The parcel has about 30 mature fruit trees on it, the scrolling plums are my future subject and the shadows of the seasons. There is a barn nearby with artist studios for rent. I want to take care of the trees and use the fruit to make jam.