Author: refic

artsy

Dusk to Dawn

 

 

It took nearly two years for the project to come to fruition, but it finally happened; I painted a mural with a group of inmates from Florence Prison Camp outside of the prison walls in the town of Canon City.  As a group project, we painted a 45-foot long mural inside of the Prison Museum.  Working on this project was the incredibly fulfilling and also an educational experience like none I have had.  Spending a total of six days with the guys, we accomplished an impressive mural to the benefit of the public.

SwitchKnives Reversed

Pull the blade, reveal the shank, grasp the shiv, unsheathe the knife, prepare for penetration; behind, behind, further behind, all the way back, the furthest way around. Sting, burn, drip, drip, drip goes the blood. The tip enters, thoughts occur, feelings follow. The pain, the deepest feelings. The out of sight slicing, cutting, slashing, sticking, shanking, the stabbing in the back.

Home Less

The Construction of a cardboard village had my mind running, my imagination turning. First, the excitement of making new things and then the sadness of the state of our community would come to mind.  From seeing all the trash that we discard daily, to confronting issues of use and re-use, and each of our “places” in society.  Building cardboard houses most notably lead me to think about homelessness.

The Villagers

villager1Look… Look Closer…

The Villagers are there along with rising and setting of the sun and the moon in a cycle of light and dark.

When the worlds get reversed and the daydream walkers sleep and the night walkers begin to rise. The underworld becomes the outer-world as the dream world washes over. DMT trips silence the sight, and the Devils run free.

This city has characters that live in the shadows

Dreamy

While you were sleeping the nightmares showed up.

When our eyes were closed the monsters moved in.

Our village is consumed with terror.

We are the villagers, and we must wake up.

We must arise.

It’s in the places that we don’t look, at the times when we can’t see that the darkness has set in. We pretend it’s fake like it’s invisible like it’s not real.  We wait for a source of light to manifest and remove these evils, but it never comes.  Not in years of waiting

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THE CHAINS OF ADDICTION

THE CHAINS OF ADDICTION; BREAKING OVER THE DRAGONS BACK

ADDICTION, THE BATTLE:

As some of you know, or as many of you know I am a recovering alcoholic. Alcohol has been but one of many of my vices over the years, but it by far was the one that had the greatest impact on my life. Alcohol induces me to make poor decisions on purpose seemingly. And through all of my many years of drinking I learned a lot of lessons, I created my fair share of enemies, and lost numerous friends along the way.

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WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING, you may ask?

Well, THERE WERE NO FUCKS GIVEN,
Or what better way could we say this?
It’s almost a delicate way of saying an impolite thing.

Do you often find yourself not saying the things you need to say?
Do you ever hold your tongue?
Do you speak differently around different people?
Have you ever burst out with a naughty word and an incredibly awkward moment?

The Fancy Book of Curse Words” is a celebration of these awkward moments. Inside

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Graffiti my Heart, Pueblo.​

http://www.chieftain.com/news/pueblo/pueblo-police-on-the-lookout-for-mop-taggers/article_732cd07a-9b68-571f-8ad8-c01945a05720.html My town has graffiti; I love graffiti, I love to see graffiti. As a youth it was graffiti that gave me my outlet, it gave me my voice, my freedom. Graffiti gave me my closest friends and my greatest lessons. Graffiti has defined me since my youth, and I am proud to call myself a graffiti artist.

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Bessemer locals, locos.

I had the absolute pleasure to be able to paint with two of my greatest friends I’ve known. Vogey and Grips, are among my favorite artists and crewmates. The painting is located in a part of town known for is lively characters, vibrant nightlife, exotic culture, and gourmet cuisine. The part of the city is Bessemer, Pueblo. My town, Creaturesville, the hood we claim, and the community that supported our rise.