Burn this motherfucker down and howl like a deranged dingo

They are upright but should walk on all fours.
They dress in their painted on jeans and t-shirts torn.
Fed through vegan veggie wraps, wearing their tattooed sleeveless straps.
Some are tan and few are clean.

Most unshaven and all should be unseen.
To not come out in public and maybe that is what they mean.
I didn’t shower or eat today mom, but look at me now.
My artwork is at Art Basel and I’m selling my clown.

Selling technique or lack there of.
Selling my fashion while carrying a club.
I am the tip top of the evolutionary chain.
The cultural leaders of the empire machine.

Evolving so far up, that we must fall down.
In passing I’ll shoot you a quick snarky frown.
How dare you bring kids to an art show downtown.
This work is serious and says so very much.

But is so vague that its needs are such.
The context of the context of our context to my context.
Used to bury any meaning so deeply inside.
That only a small handful would dare subscribe.

There are ghostly faces painted and glued on smudged bodies.
There are drawings of poodles and little girls in lipstick armies.
A sculpture of a ten foot Asian man dropping trough.
Photographs of warehouses full of beautiful nude vultures.

The faces on canvas and the faces walking round,
all seem to echo the same empty sound.
As if struck with a hammer, a bell ringing loud.
This is the end of our empire and this is the art we sell.

There is no meaning here but the excess and apathy that abounds.
No search for truth for truth left town.
Truth went looking for meaning where none was found.
So as an old friend said on my social network just now.

Let’s burn this motherfucker down and howl like deranged dingos.
Cardboard cutouts painted, worn as masks as we play bingo.
No need to correct the ship as it steers off its course.
Madness and destruction has always been its source.

Let’s howl like animals and burn this motherfucker down.
Watch the flames engulf this broken system that we propped up ourselves.
For there is not one innocent person in capitalism now.
Throw a hot dog on a stick and cook it good and crisp as we howl.

The whole thing will go up in no time, so let’s enjoy it now.

Open Ground at the Fountain Art Fair

I showed with Open Ground from Williamsburg, Brooklyn for the Fountain Art Fair in the Wynwood Arts District, for Art Basel weekend in Miami, Florida, Dec 4-7, 2008.  Below are photos and a 26 minute interview I did with the co-founder of Open Ground Jenny Walty.

From Art Basel 1, 2008.