America, American Illustrator, anger, Art, artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, BD Room, death, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, Murder, Self Portrait, selfie, Selfies, Stab, Stabbing

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Let’s imagine a student in class today who said, “I am going to stab you in your head and then shit and pee on your grave”, and me saying “OK”.

What else could I say?

The kid was angry and lost it for about 2 hours. It’s difficult not to fall into the trap, feel threatened and angry with a 10-year-old. However, I don’t, never will and kept my senses clear.

This painting is what I felt, what I knew could have happened. Another time. Another place.


Ageless marmalade skies

1960s, America, American Illustrator, Art, artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, drawing, John Lennon, Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, The Beatles, Vietnam War


Yesterday was John Lennon’s birthday. He would have been 75, which seems impossible because both he and The Beatles feel ageless. The scent of new releases all on vinyl, is imprinted not only throughout my life experiences, but tinctured in olfactory memory. The power of youth and growing older, would be impossible to paint without his lyrics, politics and passions.

Having been of age to be drafted, his efforts along with others, helped end the senseless war in Vietnam. He helped save me and gave anthems to march, to walk and to make love; not war.

I asked a server over coffee today, if Lennon was relevant to her. Sadly and unpredictably, the 20 something said no. I had heard of many people several years younger, who think he and The Beatles are as important today, if not more.

I hope this is true.

Lennon with partners, illustrated my youth and who I am today. He will always be Mr. Kite, Marmalade Skies and Revolution.


Happiness is slip-slide skin and hot-fumed gravel

1960s, Addiction, Adoption, Black Power, Bondage, Gun Control, Heartbeat, Leonard Cohen, line art, Murder, Nudity, Racism, selfie, Selfies, Sketchbook, Sketching, terrorism


Slide skin,
heat me up and
poison my mind,
killing this infection –
taking my life,
eating my dinner down,
tossing and
rawing my lips.

Come run with me;
now take me on.

Pull my choked-up,
glass wheels fast.

Help me steer –
not too neat,
hot fumed,
slip-slide gravel.

Get under my skin,
do it dirty.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015