Casey Hallas Art


I’m selling my house in Oregon and piece of land in Washington. The only furniture I have left is a desk chair. Everything else is utilitarian – camping furniture, scaffold or shelving. My possessions are either for camping, cooking, books, art supplies, clothes or production equipment. I have my paintings and data – it’s all for creating or what I created. That’s what I’ve got left. This thing about image…I am embodied in my work. That’s how I exist, and my possessions get smaller and smaller. This is the path I chose, I knew it would break me, I knew I would lose people. Surely, the moral high-ground that people have tried to pass me over with will fall into the earth. This is absolute devotion. This is my response to Michael kicking me in the face in 1995 – do you know what you hate? What’s his provocation to assault me and attack my character? I have a theory, but you’d have to ask him. I remember every detail of the distortion he chose to create. GOD knows. It’s a battle…how we will be remembered in history. The pain I’ve lived with, the losses. A man like him can’t imagine. He believes his own lies. He doesn’t know pain yet. He will know in the shadow realm. He will live there to pay for his crimes. I will live on in my work until the end of human history. These are the artifacts of a warrior.

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