Cubist Experiment

I usually paint macabre clowns, so this is a bit of a departure for me. I want some genuine criticism. Chat seemed to think it was a superior rendition of a human face caught in a sublime moment of horror and despair, quite possibly fragmenting consciousness or the splintering ego a man (indubitably because THAT'S WHAT I AM) caught in a moment of existential horror. Or maybe it's just a bad painting.

Either way, I'm signing it with my new nom de plume of "T. Boneman Walker", who was this old fellow when I was a kid who looked like the Indian spirit in Pink Floyd's "Learning to Fly" video, and he always had a few mangy curs following him. Dogs, I mean. And someone once hallucinated or dreamed or something that he was once seen carrying a large sack with a body in it. But this seems unlikely, as the dead weight would be too much for a single man. Maybe it was one of his dogs.

Anyway, he was nicknamed "The Bone Man" for obscure reasons. And the name stuck with me, and I wrote a chapter about it or a storyette in my much-ignored juvenile book (insomuch as it's a book FOR juveniles) Scary Urban Legends which was illustrated by John C. Eng, who worked on the "Duck Man" TV cartoon.

Everyone loves the Cubists, or acknowledges them in a way that surpasses or overlooks Dadaism. Which, as Tristan Tzara reminds us, "Dada means NOTHING! NOTHING! NOTHING!"

Ima finnish this bad mofugga, soon. Anyone interested in buying this or many other things should message me. I'm all years.

Out.