moth head

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Graduated! 

Mishka Colombo 2015 MFA Thesis

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Hey, Guys!

School is wrapping up and graduation is lurking around the corner.

So I’m having a Graduation Works on Paper Sale to help offset the costs of moving back to Baltimore in a few weeks. Everything pictured above is framed and ready to ship this week. PM me here, email me [ [email protected] ] or hit me up on FB for price details if you’re interested.  

Thank you!

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Art4Chloe

Silent auction 'Art4Chloe' hosted online at 32auctions.

Hey, guys! Check out this silent auction. Proceeds raise money for Chloë Rombach’s recovery. I have the piece below in the auction. <3 <3 <3 Check back frequently because new items are listed daily.

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The duck will start to melt at 90 degree Fahrenheit.

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Unknown Flemish Master - Head of Medusa (detail) (1600)

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Two thumbs up

[lenscratch]

(PHOTO)graphy

by Sheung Yiu

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Artist: Igor Piwowarczyk

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#neverlookback

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lookit here

[heyinterstella]

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letting cat power handle things for me this week.

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now open 24/7

There comes a point in every overextended late-night painting marathon when my vision fails me. Not in a big way, but in several subtly maddening ways that fuse together to create a psycho-symptomatic moot point. For instance: Everything starts to look like cockroaches. Ok, that’s an exaggeration. Small high contrast objects like a paperclip, dried leaf, coffee spill or paint smudge begin to look, out of the corner of my weary eyes, like putrid disease carrying insects. Now, I repeat, not everything gets all Kafka on me. I don’t have roach hands after 2am. But I do have momentary roach paperclips. Follow? I don’t know why my brain jumps to this ridiculous conclusion. I think it gets lazy and initiates a surrogation procedure where previously internalized, cockroach-approximate information is replicated and substituted in favor of accepting and processing new, anomalistic input. But it’s also funny because midnight pest-vision means I’m operating with fissure-like gaps in my perception of reality. Fissures that are filled with hallucinatory cockroaches.

Me: Hey, what was that shadow?! Brain: Don’t worry, it’s a roach. Keep painting. Me: Ok. Just preparing myself for the inevitable as I schlep toward a string of all-nighters in order to complete my thesis before installation day. Wish me luck.

I’m a garbage-human. 

If you can read this you don’t need glasses.

[paintervalentine]

Marc Quinn, The Selfish Gene, 2007

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"swimming, smoking, crying" - dana schutz 2009 one of my favorite paintings.

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because wednesday. 

[megjmitchell]

Gash, 2012