The hallway where my studio is located.

      An H.P. Lovecraft based piece that sold for $20.

      Stormtroopers, because what would the world be without them?

      My art set-up at the bar.

      Quite a mess, huh?  Anyway, the Iron Man container used to be for a slurpee, but I use it to drink Olympia beer out of.

      This was painted from an actual live model.  Nice ass.  This piece recently sold to a woman who probably didn't deserve to own it.

      Me, with some stupid hand gestures that people do these days.

      More of the same.

      Even more of the same.

      I try to sell paintings at the cafe, but it doesn't work.  No one there has any money.

      I like to type at the cafe, and I don't care if it bothers anybody or not.

      Since I started selling paintings on canvas at the bar, I've sold two.  That's $160 that I wouldn't have had.  :)

      I don't do this for my health.

      "Yo, biatche.

      The beginnings of my new studio.

      Self-explanatory.

      "Sell, sell, sell."

      "Whatever it takes."  Sometimes you have to go the extra mile to get someone to notice, and then they don't care anyhow.

      Eddie and Marvin.

      Popeye.

      Coffee Energy Bear.

      Alex.

      Popeye and Stormie.

      Mark.  I consider him a friend.

      "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

      Holding a blue, plastic skull.

      Getting fat, and who cares.

      Having fun.

      Low view.

      "Thumbs up, dude."

      "Cheers with a Raineer, otherwise known as 'The Green Death' ".  That s*** will f*** you up.

      "Buy my art, bitch."

      Goddamn, look at that gut.

      "Hey, Fatty, get to work!"

      Smoking a paint brush.

      Some functions of my art studio.

     It is good to be versatile.