The gay erotic surrealism of Burrough’s hyper-masculine hero John Carter unpacked through the medium of a new oil painting
Making art is grabbing some inchoate idea from the ether and trying wrestle it into physical existence. Always failing, really, but never stopping.
Like a walk in a garden, you catch a glimpse of delicate creature coyly flirting with visibility among the flowers. You feel a brief spark that invites a longer look and maybe leaves a gently joyous, lingering sensation.
Expanding my routines freed up my thinking about health and physique, freed up my body and, believe it or not, freed up my art, too.
How did we come to a place where physique is the realm of toxic masculinity?
What makes a guy doable? Simple, intensity.