I'm about to eat this box of shrooms

I'll let you know how it goes. I bought this box for 15 bucks. They were picked this morning. It's a beautiful day here in Amsterdam... time for some sitting by the canal making art.

Some sketches out of my journals

I figured I need to upload these before they get deleted from my camera.

A new iPod! Thanks Stacie!

Stacie was kind enough to visit me for a few days. It was sometimes heart breaking but all in all a pleasent time. She was very kind in delivering me a new iPod and my shiny new Credit Crad. Thanks Stacie... you've always been my friend.

Sorry things didn't turn out better. It was nice to recognize your face in a world of strangers.

I'm in Amsterdam baby!

Something I did or said really made Adria avoid me! Sorry sweet heart... I will always love you. I hope to see you when I get back. Enough about hearts... Do you know what a land of bicycles is like? Close your eyes and imgane people being free enough to lay in the streets on acid without being run over by a car. This place us truly the best.

The food is sooo good... best Pizza on the planet!

Marsella - Absinth Bar... Oh my!

Established in 1820! It is rumored to be the oldest bar in Barcelona. The decor is pretty ancient. Bottles that nobody has touched for over a century, floods of cob webs and dust, tables of marble and old mirrors.
This bar was founded by a native of Marseilles who introduced the Absinth, this hallucinogenic drink came from France. Many people like Picasso and Gaudí, artists, Bohemians and also sailors, prostitutes and vagabond drunkards frequented this bar in earlier days.
Nowadays the clientele is basically composed by young people. I seemed to be the only person making art here.

Off to get shit faced

I´m not having a good day. I so wish my life was back the way it was 4 years ago. I want to come home. Oh right I don´t have a fucking home! My home is my backpack! Fuck! Oh well off to drink my ass into a stupor and hand out free art that I´ve been slaving over all day! Fuck! Is it obvious... I´m not having a good day!

I am alive... no doubt. But today is one of those days that the hurt in my heart makes my eyes water. May you all feel alive like I do. Somedays it makes me scream with elation! Somedays I can´t get out of bed and cry myself back to sleep... but I am alive... thank God I feel something!

Sharing some writings from my journal

Someone wrote this in my journal when I wasn´t in control of it. I think it´s beautiful.

"Old enough to know better
Too young to care
I´ve emptied my pockets
And the rain is in my hair
My art is soaked
from sitting on the the street
I´ve nowhere to go
and no one to meet
But I´ll draw my pictures
That no one will ever see
I feel quite fucked
but I´m still looking for weed
So I recieve my drawing pad back
And I finish my OWN life"

-Anonymous

This person had me summed up pretty fucking good... not to mention it was a cold rainy night and I was indeed soaked... and indeed handing out art that you all will never see.

Cold sores suck!

Nothing like a nasty fever blister to scare off women. I must be drinking too much... this is my second so far in three months. Hopefully love sees through these stupid fucking eye sores. I want a wife. I want love. Sometimes I feel so alone why can´t I have the kind of love I once had. I want a beautiful woman´s soul to love me. I need love. Without it I feel like Vincent Van Gogh. Does some one need me to cut off my fucking ear? Will someone love me if I promise to never have sex with them! Or cut off my fucking ear! Fuck! I am so alone... I don´t want to go back to my hostel. Am I too crazy to love? Fuck you God! Love sucks! AAAaaaaaaarrrrrggggghh!

¨I am the Best!¨ How loud did I say that?

Funny story. I was working out some ideas in my journal the other night. Then I met some Americans who are in the anti-terrorism business. What a fun bunch of folks to be in such a serious business. The owner was a petite chic from Hong Kong she had a laugh that could topple a building. And what she lacked in size she made up for in character. Anyhow, I had a really great time talking with them and Stewart the CFO was a really cool guy that helped me cut a rug without getting my ass kicked. Anyhow, I was telling them about the fact in Amsterdam you can buy pure MDMA(xtc). There had been so much bad xtc going around and people were getting sick that the fucking awesome ass Dutch government set up a program to ensure that anyone wanting xtc could be sure it was pure. So now ,supposedly, in all the discotheques there is a government appointed person that is there solely to test your xtc for you and let you know if it is real or not. So because of this Amsterdam now has the most consistently pure xtc on the planet. After telling my new friends this we were all going to jump on a plane and head to Amsterdam. As the night went on they realized it was just a dream for them...and I was bummed I couldn´t go with the crazy fun group. So they bought me drinks all night... my friend tequilla... ran heavy. I started ripping drawings out of my journal and handing them to girls, bar staff, and the owner of the club. I told them I was the greatest artist of all time. They asked why and I said, "Because I am the best!"... "I am ART!". So as I meandered the streets at 5am buzzed out of my head. I screamed, "I am the best!" at everyone I saw. Artist´s ego... doh! I really need to get settled into a studio so I can prove to anyone reading this that I am the best... ha...ha(honestly there is no such thing as the "best artist" there is only a person performing at his or her best) I´ve just been distracted by my so called life until now. It´s really difficult to paint master pieces in my hostel. But as an aritist it is my job to make people feel. Based on how much chaos/laughter/anger I´ve caused over here... I think I´m doing pretty fucking good as an artist... paint brush or no paint brush.
So anyhow on with the story... yesterday I took a break from art to grab a beer and some dinner. As I wandered down the Rambla. People would occasionally scream "You are the best!" At first I was a little embarrassed but then I embraced it and screamed right back,"YES!I am the fucking BEST!" Late last night I got into an arguement with 1 French guy about the fact he thought that I couldn´t be the best... then like magic someone I had given a really good drawing of 2 girls making out to whipped out the folded paper... and said he is the best! I don´t know if it was because I drew 2 chics kissing or he thought it was an awesome drawing... but at that point he said, "Okay...maybe you are the best" Maybe he just wanted to be my friend in case the sexy lesbos were near. Oh well... "I am the best!" Now if I could only be the best at the following: working out, not drinking/smoking or taking drugs, being a better son/brother/lover, being a better listener, being humble, being at peace... I´d truly be the more than the best artist.

I hope you all are the best in your own lives... at whatever it is you think is important. It´s a life long journey that is always something to drive toward. I believe no one will believe it unless you believe it. So I´m standing by my belief... "I´m the fucking best living artist!" It doesn´t matter what anyone else thinks... I know it... and that´s enough.

Whose up for a trip to Amsterdam?

I´m getting the itch for some Dutch culture. After I go apartment hunting in Cadaques. I think next week I´m gonna head to Amsterdam for some painting, weed and xtc. Anyone want to join me? Doesn´t this picture make you want to get stoned? It does me... where´s my credit card. I´ll keep you all posted... just thought I´d throw out an invite to all my homies before I go.

Don´t Bogart that joint Humphrey!

Back in Barcelona

Spain is my favorite place besides Amsterdam. I will be here for a week or so. Then heading back to Cadaques to do a serious search for an art studio. I admit though occasionally I do get a little homesick. I miss my friends. I miss having a normal life sometimes. I really miss my paycheck and my kitchen.

Somedays I feel right on track. Other days I feel like ¨What the fuck am I doing here?¨ How did my life take such a dramatic change of direction? I thought I was going to start a family this year. Now I´m half way across the planet trying to figure out who I am. Huh? I definitely feel alive... I admit that. But taking everyday as it comes can be pretty damn scary. What will tomorrow bring? God only knows... hopefully a kitchen.

Anyhow not complaining. It´s just raining outside and I´m feeling a little gloomy today. That´s life... time to go throw myself into some art making... and get in the zone. Go away rain!

My Painting Comission

So these are the 2 paintings I was comissioned to do for 500 bucks. A very nice woman from Miami(if I remember correctly)... comissioned me to do them while I was painting on the streets in Marseille. I was praying to God asking him I was truly on the right track. Not more than 5 minutes later this woman and her secretary approached me and asked me to do these pieces for her. They said they were in their office and thought it would be really great to get a painting done for a dear friend. Then her secretary said she looked out the window and there I was painting on the street below. She told her boss, "there's a painter right down there on the street." The rest is history. I hope she likes them. Even thought I delivered them a day late. Pretty sporty for an artist I think. She's lucky she got them at all artists are the biggest procrastinators.

My French Girlfriend

Just kidding actually... her boyfriend is one of the art clubbers. But I told her I was gonna post her photo on my blog as my French girlfriend. At which point she desperately tried to delete this photo from my camera. I'm just putting this up here to make her cringe when she see it. As I'm sure she's probably checking to make sure I don't post it. she is quite a cutie though don't you think? Yum!

The Art Club

For anyone that is single and an artist. The best way to meet people is to draw or paint in public. If you are truly good you will never be short on friends. On this night I was drawing in the local pub. A group celebrating a birthday struck up a conversationwith me. "What are you drawing" Wow that's cool. As the night progressed I recieved free drinks. As they watched I asked, "Would you guys like to draw as well." That was recieved with great enthusiasm. Then like wild fire it became a midnight art class. What fun art is! Anyhow, later they drove me to a discotheque which a a heavy metal room. Awesome! I lost track of them as the night went on and met 2 Arab guys who smoked a hash joint with me and gave me a ride back to the hostel. One of them kept screaming "I love Cocaine!" Crazy adventure this is. Everyone should throw themselves at the unknown at least once in their life. Their are many interesting, sincere, and generous crazy fucking people out here. Everyone one of them thinks I'm supposed to be something. These guys kept telling me that my karmic energy was overwhelming and that they were sure I was in the process of changing the world. Maybe... maybe not. That's not important... changing myself is important... and I think that is in full bloom. I love this choice that I have made. My life is so much richer for this experience already. It makes me want to see more. Maybe Thailand or China... perhaps Egypt. How will I ever stop now. the nomad life is so fulfilling... I need to figure out how to make money doing this so it doesn't have to end. Note it's not all roses though I've spent 4 nights freezing my ass off while sleeping on benches with no blankets. I broke into a shed last night to get out of the cold when I missed the hostel curfue. Have incredible blisters on my feet. I had one stretch of no shower for 4 days. And washing clothes can be seen as a true luxury. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Where will I be tomorrow? God only knows... but my realization is that this planet is a tiny place with many good people and many bad people... but if you believe that "Love is all you need" you'll be quite fine.

My "Fab" friend

Let's just call him Fab for now. Anyhow I was staying at the Hostel in Marseille, and one of my room mates didn't speak any English. However, I was fascinated because he had a tear tattooed on his right cheek. What did this mean? I was intrigued to say the least. So I started to attempt communication. In a struggle over 6 days... I was able to teach him basic English. He taught me to understand French even though I refused to speak it. I think it's important for the French to speak English... since it seems to me French is a dying language. Anyhow... he was going through a divorce, had a 3 year old daughter, no job and no home. Over the next several days he conveyed his struggles to me. He had been in French Prison for over ten years, could not get a job or a new home because of his tattoos and past. Apparently, it is impossible to fire or evict someone once they've been hired or move into a place. I spent several evenings trying to calm his nerves after hearing him outside screaming at his wife over the phone. I could feel his anger. I knew this pain... I did not get the jist of what happened between he and his wife... and quite frankly did not want to know. I just tried to keep his spirits up. I gave up a few days of painting to wander the beach listening to him bitch in French and broken English. One of these days we happened upon a Quick burger(a French McDonald's) I asked him if I could buy him a burger. He said no way would he ever set foot inside a quick burger. Then the story began to unfold... when he was a teenager he attempted to rob a Quick burger. "Give me all your money!" The kid behind the counter said "We just dropped the night's cash in the safe. I don't have any money." At this point Fab raised his pistol and shot the kid in the face at point blank range. He did not kill the kid... but inhiliated his left eye... and pretty much destroyed his face. This is why he was in Prison. Later that night he rolled up his sleeves and showed me the most amount of scars I'd ever seen on some one's arms. He had attempted an escape over a razor fence and was unsuccessful. Wow what a fucking story. He was still angry at himself and French society for not giving him a second chance now. He said I was the only person in years to look him in the eyes and treat him like a friend. He was very generous to me. My shoes were quite smelly from all the walking. He gave me his extra pair of Nikes and a cool shirt he thought I'd like. I'm wearing both the shoes and the shirt as I write this. I gave him a painting... and many hours of my ear. For those of you that pray... give a shout out to your God for my dear troubled friend Fab. He is really close to the end of his rope... I hope he can find a less troubled road. He left the Hostel today because he ran out of money. But before he left he shared 2 things with me... first he showed me a bottle of Methedone(this is not a good thing) and the name he has given me... "Creature of Destiny". Cool name for my book if I ever finish it.