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Artisanal Post-Modern Slum
2020
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Belong
Minutes of daylight, as the minutes turn into hours, is the parlance of our time. Everytime I look in the mirror, I see myself staring right back at me; a fleeting glimpse of myself going round and round on a carousel cusp of why. I will never understand why my parents moved me around a lot. I was around eight years old when my parents moved me out of my birth place of New York City, and I had to change schools for the first time; I was in third grade. After grade seven, my parents moved me to a different school where I completed eighth grade. Grades nine through…
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Post Modern Sleaze
February 2020
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Because The Night
February 2020
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Waiting For A Train
February 2020
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Use Your Illusions
January 2020
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Alexithymia
January 2020
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Hallway On 8th
January 2020
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Birds Of FIT
January 2020
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My Friend Lived Like Shit And Suffered For His Art
I first met Tim in the fall of 1992 when my parents hired him to paint our house. My earliest memory of Tim was helping him to remove a bees nest from the side of my parents house so that he could finish painting. We stayed in touch ever since, and over the years, Tim became a close friend of mine. Tim had always welcomed me to come to see him at his gallery and studio. Tim was a free spirit who maintained the attitude of a person much younger than his years, and as the years went by, I grew to know Tim as someone who often spoke of…