Guarding Infinity


18X18. Mixed Burlap on wood frame. Paper, acrylic, ink, oil, mod podge, antique iron skeleton keys, 1940s costume jewelry, wire, polymer clay, SOLD. Note: original piece was not crooked, and we’re missing some of the edge work. Buyer sent me photo.


Under My Tongue


About six inches. Tee hee. Clay with some kind of varnish (can’t remember brand) which looks a bit like spittle. You can’t get the actual shape of it –or much of an idea– from the pic, but it really DOES look like a tongue; His Satanic Majesty’s in particular. Came out of the kiln a burnished Pepto Bismol color, and is oddly reassuring to hold. So ugly yet  compelling, hard to put down, and feels so good to hold; kind of like Mick himself.

Return of the Thin White Duke: Missing David Bowie On His Shoulda Been 71st

So now it woulda-coulda-shoulda been his 72nd. The anthology is still available on Amazon, if anyone is feeling nostalgic and blue [jean]. Cheers to one of my many childhood muses. We all miss you.

Vivacia K. Ahwen + Rachel Robbins

images.jpegAs you get older, the questions come down to about two or three. How long? And what do I do with the time I’ve got left? ~~David Bowie


Strangely I have never clawed,

rallied against

gone beyond


Everything in your years

have their brightness

in your most never are

wherever stars are

things which run me,

or which cannot happen

because they too

are taken

so very soon.

Your virtuosic look

will necessarily ungive me

though I have also

sung myself as galaxy,

you are always

inside, by, inside

myself as brain

feeling, pretending, completely,

mainly disturbing thought

or if your musky incense be

to think of me,

I and my prophet

will express very that, fully,

as when the music of this

everything promises the point

never, everywhere living


which we are to understand

into this corpse goes

the daemon of your absolute ghost:

I do…

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