Remnant

On the morning of that first day I would come to the collection that the kingdom of my fore-fathers was no more than an old, broken bottomed, glass Coca Cola bottle lying discarded in the desert. Hecho in Mexico. Andy Warhol, you were right.

December 31, 2009. 12:40 a.m. CST

The moon shines twice.
Here. Blue to it they name.
Sequence compound with sign.
Event.
To the most compound,
anno
Domini.

Only among a time.
Light. Shines twice here.
anno Domini.

And death will flee from us all.

AMeN.

Narrative Apocolypto

Title link takes you to some more pictures I've been producing. This is of a line that I am continuing on to canvas.

Uvalde Leader News

The link goes to the Uvalde Leader News website where they shared a write up about some of my art. The article is toned down a lot as I think much of the information I gave the reporter was not even breeching her stratosphere. I'm grateful for the hometown publicity anyhow.

Alpine Public Library

This picture was donated to the silent auction in support of the new Alpine Public Library, November 2009.


Cow #20, acrylic on paper, 8in.x10in., 2009.

12inx15in.

Hell Hounds of Redford, oil on paper, 2009.

When art is here too long....

When work is too long in the studio of art:
No matter how much the amount of it's grace;
It begins to cry out in the realms of the artist's six senses.
Pooring on.
Moaning like laboring pains of woman,
Spearing his heart with tears like the sound of hurting dogs.
Whaling in the echoes of his mind,
Like starving whine of cat.
Haunting him.
Bitter, like demons existing only in flight.
Even when they are given no light and put away,
They hide, seeking him out in traps.
From the even of the shadow they say,
"We are too many; destroy us, and you with it."



A poem by:

JustinWarrenGraham.

Link Memory Flood Recollection

Checkers was
anno Domini, a.k.a. Anomaly.

Today the Mountains are Ghosts in the Sky.

Scratch That Yesterday

Yesterday were winds of the Southern Gulf Coast and Pacific together.

Today
The Winds of The Texas Panhandle have reached the desert.
All the way up from the north.
Dumping cold into Mexico
Air traveling along the Rockies.
The rain clinges to the windows.
That's long way 'round saying it's cold.
Calvary has arrived in the desert.
And up North too.

Brace Up Palo Duro

Wind from The Panhandle

Air is blowing through the desert today undisturbed by the cracking mountains. Incurring dust to the air worthy of a blue northern sweeping its grasp from Rocky, to plain. The color of the mountains change their details with so much soil in the air. Suddenly, I am on the planet Mars.
And then no more,
Than the moment I am finished typeing,
That the Wind is gone.

Oct 2009.

Redford Texas October of 2009.

I am working on a desert precedence in which I've been inspired only by dream and subconcious 'til now. In the first books of the New Testament four men give their discription and testimony to the life of Jesus Christ, and what happened in His thirty three years. In these descriptions, each tell of a gentile, a Roman soldier, who pierced the side of the Messiah with an javelin tipped arrow and was subsequently covered by the blood at the foot of the cross. The actual spear he used, known as the Spear of Destiny, is of such an interest to me, that I am compelled to create my own versions of arrows, javlin, markers, staffs. And leave them to the desert. More to come on this, be sure to follow my video documentary; just click on the title above.

Justinwg.

P.S, There will be pictures.