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Here is my newest piece. I painted it on a piece of rejected plywood from the house next door that I screwed onto the back of my desk. I painted it because I was frustrated with my apathy towards morality and justice in life. Most of the motivating moral force in my life seems to be guilt, which is helpful, but not very pure. I made the snake white because evil can be confusing.

On a completely unrelated note, I have started writing a bit of poetry, which sounds really lame. But I am doing it for an elective in the after-school program I volunteer at. I think that justifies it. Besides, I need to fill up some space on this blog. Anyway, here is a bit of free verse (even lamer) that I penned the other day:

King is such a worn out thing
Like old leather rubberized by the kneading and gnawing of time
But behind sign, thing flits through the faces on the news and comic books
Obama and Ironman,
Verifying the health of humanity's royalty fetish:
Our painful hunger for the face to follow.
The things inside of the faces we follow have power, sucking neural milk from the slippery devotion of their groupies they try to envelop more in the sticky embrace of their membrane.
But, like James Marshall's castles, they fade away
Imploding Red Giants folding into a black hole,
Poisoning the minds of their followers and sending them into spacious cynicism.

Here is a happier one:

Today I walked to the Alley for socks.
Dress socks for working
A me apparition gleamed every few blocks.
A gleaming Grey me in windows
High rises hung distantly, grimly above the street.
Steel demigods ruling the sky
And patches of sidewalk lay contorted at my feet.
Warped by trees
I was alone, observing, until I asked someone for directions.
Then I became unified in Sound.