This experiment was built out of some 350 odd still images of trees shot in Prospect Park this afternoon.

I did this illustration for the holiday greeting card from NovitazInc.

Another experiment in trying to use the motion in the video to compose music around the video.

Quit talking to yourself.

Saw these painter’s coveralls caught in a tree and wanted to preserve the strange comic tragic moment.

I saw god in the food court of the mall, eating his tail and spinning off towards the third mezzanine.

I dreamt of a dog split down the middle like a cell dividing. When I drew it, it looked like two dogs fighting and when I added human legs it seemed like psychological self portrait. I don’t really think to myself anymore. I just bark and growl to myself.

I scraped together a buck fifty and went down the street to buy a poppy seed bagel. It tasted like heaven, but I felt a bit cheated by the hole.

The man who is wounded waits in a dingy little restaurant for the captain who recruited him into the Army. He waits for him nervously, like waiting for a pretty date. He asks the bartender to put two bottles of Champagne on ice. I find it strange that he would spend this kind of money on an Army pay scale and even stranger that the place has Dom Perignon. I woke up once the Captain arrived.

I have a dream about Rocket Propelled Grenades and trying to draw the war. It is a dream about a man who has been wounded.

I saw a man carrying an enormous fish down the street. When he got closer, I realized it was Christmas tree.

I go out where the cold surrounds me and gather softballs, like eggs and then later eat soup.

I have seen this man around the dim winter ballfield. He had a golf club and was beating down the long yellow grass to find lost foul balls. He made a stack of seven or eight of them in the center of the diamond. I think he runs a blog on the minutia of military spending.

It woke up saturday and dreaming of art towns in the greater Europe.

It said, “I miss you, but what were we fighting about?”

She said, “PHo.”

It said “Feh.”

She said, “No PhO.”

It said, “What?”

She said, “Say Feh, but like it’s question mark.”

It said “What?”

She said, “Exactly”

It said, “PHe?”

She said, “More or less yes”

It said, “I love you”

She said, “Feh.”

I pass a man in the winter street wearing shirt sleeves. He is passing a Christmas Tree stand. The music on the tinny speakers is Greensleeves… his shirt is not green.

I’m in the morning window watching them in the wind scribble of streets.

Decorating the white tree, a black ball broke. They remind me of what I’d drawn the night before.