Art & Story Blog

I came up with this over breakfast on Sunday. My fiancée Jamie seemed a little disturbed by this guy and perhaps a bit frightened by the crazy look in my eye and maniacal cackle I uttered while working on him. There can be such strange delight in conjuring grotesque imagery or truly pitiable characters. It’s just so raw. Kind of a pure expression of some dusty corner of the imagination.I tried to imagine what was going on with this guy, somewhat after the fact. I think maybe he’s having a little moral dilemma and carnivorous guilt over his soon-to-be snack. Or perhaps he’s contemplating his own decay, of which the fly is a reminder, waiting for him to rot a little more so it can have a snack of its own. Reading into this image sends chills down my spine.

My impulse is to delete this post and not subject you, dear viewers, to its sad visage, and to save myself the embarrassment of exposing what might be some ugly part of myself. But I will try to be brave in the face of all this. Look upon this tortured soul if thou wilt, but I beg you, do not judge me.

:P