Work got shipped. Fang is a clock.

Comb-over
oil, spraypaint on canvas
20" x 16"

This was such an atrocious painting for a while. I really, really wanted to give up and pitch it in the dumpster, but it seems like the closer I get to thinking a painting is absolutely meritless and I simply cannot redeem it, the greater the reward for making it to the other side. I don't approach every painting with this attitude. Some paintings never go through an awkward stage where I want to give up. I'm just saying that when I hang in there, the game's a bit more complex and satisfying in a different sort of way.

I came across the following quote a few years ago, and of course I can't find who to credit it to now, but I tried to apply it to my painting for awhile:

"Don't even bother "fixing" pieces. Making art shouldn't be a struggle. You're simply "thinking out loud" onto the page, photo-paper or canvas. If a product seems confused, leave it confused. Make another piece where you contemplate whatever issues you were wrestling with. Try something different. When clarity arrives, it will come in one living piece--not be Frankensteined together out of a single infinitely re-worked, mangled corpse."

- Somebody Else, Not Me

Sound advice, but I don't follow it. In fact, I think my current work is Frankensteined together, but not a corpse, more like a zombie. ¡Viva la Zombie!