He Waits for Me at the Threshold

He waits for me at the threshold of rebirth,
at the cup of the phoenix.
Together, we will shed our skins
to discover the truth between us.
Soon there will be nothing left to separate,
no misgivings,
no deception,
no fear,
Only an endless tunnel
vibrating and shifting,
moving closer and closer
to the threshold.

From the Sketchbook Archives: Identity

The energy of creativity strains to free itself from the blockade of the singular identity, the limiting "I".  The blockage compounds the energy and it stagnates, becoming volatile and negative.  The Identity becomes a brittle frozen mask, almost devoid of any remaining humanity.

Not What He Seems

All things become naked
in the fullness of observation.
The deception of surfaces
is pulled away like stage curtains
and the interior script
plays out the true drama.

Soulsplitter

This summer is relentless. The Pluto / Uranus square has taken no prisoners and this heat is scary.  Untenable situations abound, but the Soulsplitter is unconcerned. It performs its duties with the consistency of the sunrise, and I fear it isn't done with us just yet. 

Recommended Listening:

Rome

Die Brandstifter

from Mass Mensch Material

{Digital Images manipulated in Adobe Photoshop}

NOW AVAILABLE: HBA T-shirts!

For the past month, I've been working with Jeremy over at Horror Blogger Alliance to create a design for the newest HBA T-shirt!  We ended up with the two final designs above that are available now at Neatorama's Neatoshop.  Check out the info on the HBA Tshirts, or order one here.

From the Sketchbook Archives: Demon

More Sharpie play inspired by the artwork of Mike Mignola and the ninth episode of the series The Hakkenden: The Legend of the Ghost Cat.

{Sharpie}

In the Pools of Fevered Disappointment, He Waits

I find this piece a little difficult to write about.  I am observing an exterior structure becoming transparent, revealing a previously hidden intent.  Chaos and Toxicity, that's all I have right now.

The Hare's Tale

his wounds are deep...

what he is running to...

he forgets...

hope is hidden...

and he is tired...

so tired...

and he only wants to rest...

just to rest.

From the Sketchbook Archives: Shadows and Story

The Assassination Machine

The sword and the pen are the merely the fangs of something more insidious.

Recommended Listening:

NIN

Head Like A Hole

from Pretty Hate Machine

{Digital Images manipulated in Adobe Photoshop}

The Strange Case of the Hanged Man

Desire manifests in the strange ways.

Sometimes our approach
is in direct opposition
to very thing we desire,

thus nullifying
all our vaunted efforts.

From the Archives: Winter

I Am Marked By My Truth.

There is a boundary within us all past which we cannot retreat.

May your Truth be with you.

Recommended Listening:
The Prodigy
Omen
from Invaders Must Die!

{Digital Images manipulated in Adobe Photoshop}