Thich Nhat Hahn

Our thoughts and prayers are with Thich Nhat Hahn today, who is apparently on the verge of leaving the world. Having influenced millions, he's an irreplaceable beacon of light and has inspired with unflinching dedication to peace and practice. His books "Anger" and "The Miracle of Mindfulness" probably saved my life, and continue to effect the way I approach every day.


“Remember that there is only one important time and that is now. The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion. The most important person is always the person you are with, who is right before you, for who knows if you will have dealings with any other person in the future? The most important pursuit is making the person standing at your side happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life.” 

Thank you Thikky. We love you.  <3 

Wikipedia article

"The Egg" by Andy Weir

This short story nicely illustrates what I was kind of going for, by titling the site "All of this is for you". Enjoy... <3  

The Egg

By Andy Weir

     * * * 

You were on your way home when you died. 

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.

Summer calendar of events

Here are a few of the things I'll be doing this summer. Hope to see you out there! 

Enchanted Forest Festival
May 30th - June 2nd 2014
Mendocino, CA

Colorado Alliance of Visionary Art group show

Opening June 6th 2014
Skylite Gallery
Denver, CO 

Sonic Bloom
June 19th - 22nd
South Park, CO

Gratifly Music and Arts Festival
July 24th - 27th
Avalon, SC

Alex and Allyson Grey Painting Intensive @ CoSM  
August 3rd - 9th
Wappingers Falls, NY 
(followed by the Full Moon Gathering on the 9th)

You are what you eat.

it's easy to understand that you are made of the stuff you eat. Your bones, skin, eyes, guts, and mind all originated as food, and that is actually what happened.
Take things a step further and look at the food. Food comes out of the dirt, or the ocean. Sunlight shines on the earth, and plants come out of it, and then you eat the plants. (Or you eat the animals that ate the plants. No one's here to judge.) So, it's very simple: Sun + water + dirt = plants = you. Follow me here.
So there is no part of you that is not made of the earth. Just one step back, and you are Sun, water, dirt. The minerals and molecules and energy go in your mouth, and voila, you're you. You are what you eat.
So then, what are you?
Who are you?

When you think, "I'm me," what's going on there? Have a look at that. (...whenever you like - it's free to look at all the time, and you don't have to ask permission).

Let's say that you think to yourself, "holy shit, am I the planet earth, having a thought?"

I submit to you, my love, that this is in fact the truth, considering that the squishy, amazing stuff - your brain - which is having that thought, is essentially composed of nothing else but the rain and dirt of the planet. Another way of saying it is that the rain and dirt are having the thought, through you.
...we can of course include the sun and stars and comets and intergalactic dust in our consideration, since you're made of those things too, in which case you might think, "holy shit, am I the universe having a thought?"
..but that's a big one. Let's start small. It's a little easier to sink your teeth into the 'you are what you eat' one.

This is one part of what it means to wake up, my love. It's part of who you really are. At least I think so. It makes sense when you think about growing out of the earth and being made of it, instead of just walking around on top of it.
You are so important. All of this is for you!


Thanks for such an amazing summer everyone! We are fueled by an overflowing abundance of creative outpouring, legendary smiles & connections, dancing together under the moon, and divine moments of truth.
Time to go through all the photos and nostalgically bathe in warm and creamy reminiscence. Ah, autumn... 

Some recent updates: 

- Started a "collaborations" section, featuring some of the combined efforts with beloved fellow painters.

- Updated the "found wood" series with some happy dimethyl-muppets.

- Check out this fun morphing gif my good friend Ben Ridgway put together of the 'skulls' paintings.

- And I'm delighted to be featured on Huffington Post, in Jacob Devaney's eloquent synopsis of his time at Symbiosis Gathering!

"Space Pussy" :P -  live painting from Rootwire 2013

Stay tuned kids, more good things to come!

"Enchanted" collaboration

10' x 6' mural painted with
fellow artists Derek Heinemann, Jonathan Solter, Dela Artist, and Seth McMahon over 4 days at this year's Enchanted Forest festival in Mendocino, CA.

It was a profound experience to get to create with these
amazing friends under the loving canopy of the California redwoods, such a beautiful event!

Gallery wrapped stretched canvas prints of this collaborative piece are available through the site:
Ships free inside the US! :)

Drawing with devotion @ CoSM

Join us for an afternoon and evening of art and connection at CoSM on August 10th! 

Why paintings are better than rims

Generally speaking, rims (for your car) cost about as much as most original artwork does. Here's a little list to sway you the next time you're trying to decide which one to go with...
Why paintings are better than rims:

- Paintings are a longer established status symbol, since it looks like you're into status symbols.
- You don't have to take your paintings to the car wash once a month and spray them with a de-greasing cleanser.
- Paintings get more interesting the longer you look at them. Rims are just shiny.
- An artist can live for about a year on what you paid for your rims... so you got rims, and an artist died.
- You sound more intelligent when talking about your art collection than you do when talking about your rims collection.
- Rims use gas, a non-renewable resource. Paintings use your mind. 


Another little dubstep mix for the soul