Tag: lovelivesmatter

What a community isn’t.

Dayton Delivers | Dayton, OH

The truth about Dayton; Consider this for a moment, A tiny city out of control. Misinformed tail chasing and biased boy-scout investigative methods and investigators Lack of ability, the lists hurdle on just reasons why it’s not their fault.

Accountability.

Let’s start out with who does the chief of police answers to directly?

The city managers, politics, exactly. I’ll wait… but, what about the people? you and me, the Us. The police answer OUR calls not very many disturbances at the well-connected leader’s residences Yet, do you know why we don’t call?? Because they will endanger our families and on extreme levels almost guaranteed but, not limited to; endangering innocents lives.

It’s OUR neighborhoods that are falling apart, not theirs. Not their streets flooded, ours. Our alleys and back doors, Our families but, I’ll tell you what I know. Can the community really break down the well-fortified walls of the F.O.P. I hate to break it to my fellow neighbors, BLMs and Supremacist, spewing hatred is not going to move it in the least? We face them with themselves.

Break down their quantitive Immunities, one case at a time. And the real state makes a move. I do not believe a reasonable program can come from within DPD, I’m afraid if civil rights are really theirs to ask behind their cloud of immunities. DPD and Transparency, Please tell me I would love to hear the first thing that rattles around and comes out. Were not talking infringing on the police’s rights were talking about holding them accountable for infringing on ours. For the first time in history. Right here.

I’m just an artist, a local. Aggravated and traumatized by the city and the so called leaders.

Art is a community.

Ask yourself this.. 2 Fathers shot and killed nearly on DAI’s (art museum’s) front lawn and I’m willing to bet not one person in the building knows a given or surname of either person, lucky to find one who was even aware. I happen to be an artist as well as friends of both. to me, this is what Dayton considers community and worth investing in. comm-Unity, communication and unity. I am sorry but, we lose.

I feel a little better, not really. I just know Dayton and the city are dead set against certain things and certain people. Unfortunately, I am that crafty thing and someone. Until that day I’ll just keep painting and living.

Acrylic Painting Excerrrpted


Acrylic painting on canvas watercolor and pastel fine art

20/20 Acrylic Painting

Painted no teeth?



I finished this painting up at the end of 2019. The background and original painting contained several flowers. Mostly white and subtle. I acquired this painting from an estate sale. Among the stacks of antique frames and centuries-old oil paintings, there she was! Although it is not “ancient” the painting underneath held a good story. Even more so today than yesterday. Sometimes things just outlive their shell and it takes a cut deeper than the skin to bring it forthwith.

Leaving yourself with nothing but, a few loose teeth, from getting kicked around by invisible feet. It seems those are the ones called to fly like ivory towers shine. A call I never miss.

I am not certain when I will be releasing the rest of this painting. Often times in my life genuine things have been used against me out of desperation. Grasping out of control, spewed and spewed without the utterance, a single genuine thought. I used to mind. The valuable lesson that follows me is there is always a time. Even the life of this painting was created out of time.

Founded on Layers and Texture

The thing that I enjoyed about this painting most was the original depth. The pedals were never quite soft more like an impossible edge. It left the sides full of ridges and valleys. These flowers without a doubt held their beauty even though the colors never really meshed or mended. The original painting was separated by crossed lines, misunderstandings and assumptions as to where they belong. For decades this painting was happy for a sidelong glance the opportunity to walk the wall. It wasn’t what I was looking for there have been plenty since but, only one before. When this painting makes its final wake to the eye unsigned it shall remain.

To the original artist:

I must say, sometimes things are better unmolded and shaped but, the spirit I will never forsake. Our paths may not stray this way again as for this painting it will remain. I would hope it would bring your great happiness, this recreate. If I had the chance to share this with you in words I could not speak, I can only know you would be happy with the things you could never expect. No mistake.

More than an Artist?

More than an Artist?

“SOPHIA” = Wisdom

You know I’m not a perfect writer, I’ve tried to express my true thoughts with my feelings always. A willingness to fight the good fight.

Sometimes I find myself thinking about what role creating and painting plays in my life. Where I would be without it and how long I could last. I found it the most genuine when we have to force ourselves to do the thing we love when it is the last thing, in particular, a person “feels” like doing. Today, tomorrow and yesterday I will continue to draw and dance across mediums in search of my love.

My biggest fan.

Here we are able to paint something that tells a story. While painting a magic elephant I was thinking of my dear friend Janet. Someone who was there for me as a child and through adulthood.

Although the elephant didn’t turn out anything as I had hoped it is beautiful none the less. These times I am thankful I took photos of the process but, I am Experiencing difficulty up-loading them I am unsure why sometimes paintings find themselves finished and sometimes they seem to just fade away.

Sharpee on paper

Whatever the reason it shows me its more about the journey much like life. The more we try to control things the muddier they get.

Pink in the pallet 🙂

“When an elephant is no longer an elephant but he’s still seen standing in the room.”

Me 🙂
Still looking on

Still looking on

Have you ever stood in the back of a crowd and tried to see what was going on up front? For the socially blundered, we often end up in the back of the class. This painting reminded me of trying to see my daughter, Parker. A genuinely mad crowd turn their backs just so one can’t see. I’m thankful to have a hand to hold me up in case I want to lean in.

So far it’s 700 plus days and hundreds of paintings later and still looking on. The fire behind isn’t very hot anymore.

Another acrylic painting, on canvas 18×24

#saynotobullying