YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TOUCH THAT !!!


you are not going to touch that !!

this is the door of one of my closets…..my lucky Irish hat, my lucky socks ( no , i am not a superticious guy. Really! the luck think is more a joke ). And 2 photos of one of my favorites paintings: my socks with a sheep = self-portrait.
I never let my works exposed on the walls because I want to protect then, so if i like too much a painting, i take a picture and hang it.
This is one of the reasons I don’t like to sell my works. People have hanged my paintings in places with intence natural light , and sometimes there is even sun light beating on the painting part of the day. Do they want to destroy my work? Those ignorant assholes!!
And other think very ofencive . They never hang my paintings on the living roon , office or someplace people can see.
When i ask where is that painting he/she bought the answer is always: on my beach house’s daughter’s room , at the basement, on a warbrobe in my attic …. and things like that…..
WAIT!!
Did i hear that more than one of my paintings is in a beach house? With all that humidity and heat?
I hate people that buys my work. They want to destroy my paintings!!! Destroy ME !!
I should kill everyone that got my works and take it back.
Listen, isn’t because you were able to buy one of my paintings that it belongs to you. It is still mine! Is my signature there , is my life , my feelings, my story. So you better do what i tell you to do and keep in a place and way i say it is right.
Keep in a dry cold place ( forget Brazil ) , on a wall safe of dust and contact with natural light ( forget planet Earth) and in a place where people can see it for apreciation .
Peope have no right to buy a piece of my life and do with it what they want . I AM NOT FOR SALE!!!!
Once a guy bought a drawing of mine and sliced a piece he thought unecessary ( the normal size didn’t fit into the frame he had , he explained with a smile ). It was 1998. Sinse then to sell started to give me paranoia.
I know … i am going to starve till death. Fuck!! And my family will throw all away on the trash because they give no value for this and want to sell this house where i live as fast as possible.
I remember when my grandfather died. He let a suitcase with all the poems he had writen sinse had arrived to Brazil. My parents let it on a garden’s house of our backyard. The next summer a storm destroyed the gardens house and the suitcase … any paper there survived. My parents didn’t feel any remorse …they didn’t care at all….. they had let an important thing like that on a garden’s house!! Not inside house. I was 7 or 8 years old and got revolted with then. My father keeps interior-design magazines on his livingroon with more than 20 years old, bad books he have read when was teenager…… but the poems of a relative that loved him …… no, beer and barbecue are more important.
Today i was suposed to go to studio and paint . I opened this closet , looked to my favorite objects, and remember that i feel nothing … i haven’t today that extra energy running on my skin that makes me feel like to paint.
The stupid sun is shining and it still has silence on the streets. Birds singing, dogs playing , cats sleeping under the sun shine…. all that crap people think is nice.
I think it is nice too and i am not going to work…..i am going back to bad after to check emails and post this.
And am i going to paint for what ? To keep safe in one of my closets till i die and all be destroyed ?
the painting of the sheep with socks is fron 2008 and is on the back cover of my last book REDUCTIVE www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/1419178
You know … because of this “do not sell my work thing”, the idea of books has given me a new perspective for keep prodicing art. Posting on blog too.
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