Hydrophilic Book End

Hydrophilic Book End 

Oil on Canvas 

Framed 

6"x6" x1.5"

FROM THE PSYCHOGEOGRAPHIC SERIES: 

BRAZORIA COUNTY 

&

The TEXAS COAST

The place where only half of the things can be New. The wind takes the rest at birth and delivers it to another town like tumbleweed but less utilized. If you run fast enough it won't eat you but still chase you to its shores; miles of shoreline that go on till the waves break back into cotton fields. The place where city dwellers rest between their rock is this sandy hard place-- softened by a hurricane seasons’ storm- just needs a few tourists to sacrifice. Is anyone really from the shore? Ita transplants grunt in disgruntled facetious snickers as sweat beads from their brow for minimum wages, brown water and high waters. The water rises and falls and takes and gives back just enough to remind you of your shit and she is the end all earth. She waves and beckons you in the morning to stroll then beats you senselessly till dinner time like some gossamer contract. Where do your dreams hide and can the wind erroden them? Its salty and sand winds rust the doorknobs to your doorways and hideaways. No keys open those storage bins of toys and tents. Burn bitch. Stay salty.