I was exclusively concerned with Peewee Herman, Batman, and Edward Scissor Hands at the time the Gulf War was happening, but as I grew to learn about it as a teenager and further as an adult, the photographs of the burning oil fields always struck something in me. Towering columns of fire shooting up from the Earth, speckled across an endless horizon, burning day and night. I sometimes feel how those images look. Particularly, the unseen part. I feel like that oil deep beneath the surface. Not knowing how much is under there, but only that it’s being violently spent every minute of every hour of every day.

An ugly portrait of my beautiful girlfriend.

Favorite part of the day.

Thanks to my friend George for taking the original picture this piece is based on.

George the Poet. This day is his birthday.

Met a lot of folks since living in Los Angeles, but he stands a bit taller than most to me.

Indio, California, during the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival. My third year going, but felt entirely new.

We Own The Sky by M83.

My roomate moved out.

I miss that orange cat.