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I was thinking about the ways in which static, non-moving, objects or beings are effected by time. time is not a thing that started at some point an is just going to keep going forward linearly. it effects all of us all the time forever. in an eternal shit spiral.

I am always looking at stuff all the time. we all are but like Im really trying to see ya know. I am questing for the answers to questions that do not even really exist. but yet I am still trying to find the answer. why are things put in places? who did that? where was it before? how many people touted that before the last person? what is it? is it new or old? can I use it? all these questions and more fly through my brain at a billion seconds a second and honestly most of that shit can be figured out at a quick glance. upon further inspection I am able to wonder more what purpose anything I find can serve me, or someone else I know.

I have gotten really good at it. look at stuff. collecting information.

Straight up collecting garbage and scraps of stuff. Ive really gotten to know what I like when it comes to collage material. what works best on canvas, panel. what works with the materials I have. What I want tot try out. Its all there. in bins and stuff waiting for me to get the urge to paint, or make a composition. Some of the shit I have is like 3 years old and its in the same condition I found it in. its still going to be used at some point I know. but for what and when I don't.

Again time comes into play. Stick its nose into every situation you can come across. When. What a fucking question. When what? I don't know. But at the same time, I know exactly when customers it happens eventually. You can feel the time come, know when you are ready, know when that thing is ready. That object or whatever. Time is some next abstract concept but when you pay attention you can feel it and its seems so obvious.

still unattainable. Like changing of hands, through time and space, could be like 2 hours down a hall, or 27 hours in a van, going who knows where. someone sure does, or else it wouldn't be moving. But maybe the person before the driver mislabeled something and to goes to the wrong place? It affects a lot of people but how does it effect the object? this things just floating around in space, made of certain materials with certain properties, but no one really cares about it all that much. I do.

I want to know the story of objects, and also be a part of it by putting them in paintings, giving them new narratives, letting others decipher it, even better giving others the chance to look at the object on this new object of the painting. which can be bought and have its own narrative!

it makes so much sense.

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Picking. Picking your nose, picking your scabs, picking at hang nails. Its compulsive, I don't know why I do these things. I just get the urge and do it. Something is sticking out of the flat, complex


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