Some more images for my book.

More New Stuff: All in progress as we speak.

This is Brooklyn

Transfixiation of abstract thought.  Pulse of city streets surge in and out of conscious precipitation of pigmented daydreams.  Sinking teeth into concrete and electronic tidbits, jobless but not without directions.

First Book Image

Cleveland, OH- 8 1/2 X 11 In.- Acrylic, Micron and Paint marker on Digital Photograph Print.

More to come shortly.

Playin banjo outside the music inn.

New York, New York

Arrive in New York City a couple of weeks ago and have been in the process of getting my life together.  Good stuff, looking for jobs, working on finishing my novels, painting pictures to leave in the parks, busking in subway stations, safety breaks in the case room, things of that nature.  In love with the humanity present in Brooklyn and Manhattan and Queens and Harlem.  Buzzing heartbeats of the living concrete.

Huron, Ohio - 564 Miles to go

"Wind at their backs- the day starts off in fast forward motion across the remainder of eastern Montana. Finally after what seems like the greater part of the trip thus far. But not before a stop in Wolf Point on the Fort Peek indian reservation and other various shorter stops.

In Wolf Point, behind the local grocery store, Tonten & Estes scrounge in the dumpsters, finding full plates of fruit and bean dip. The pineapples ripe to perfection sunshine manifested in the flesh of golden triangular slices. The other fruit, excluding grapes busting with sweet and sour pungency, is sub-par. But the pineapples instill the taste of god on their beholders. While feasting behind the store, an indian kid saunters up and begins with admiration of the two, wishing and remarking his once there plans of a bicycle tour. He stands short, but is built like an ox, he has traveled around before and keys Tonten and Estes into the various hot spots on their rout, missions deploying food to the hungry, college towns relinquishing good times on those passing through. All in all a magnificent resource to happen upon. We walk back to his squat. A quaint white house with blinds drawn, a rusty white pickup parked outside, it's bed full of junk. It is dark inside and as a joint is rolled, Cool Breeze awakens to join in on marijuana festifities. Neither had smoked hash before, so it seems to be new experiences for all. The two living on the reservation just won the recent rodeo in the event of catching, saddling and riding a wild horse. Marcus, the propieter of visitation was the rider, cool breeze the roper. Marcus is a war veteran and is in training to become a UFC fighter...."

I'm ready to get off the road...but im close.