Sometimes i’m sharp when wake in the morning,  sometimes i cry with dread trying to remember who i am + whose body i’m in — what i’m suppose to do. I always come back, but the psyche gets so far out, that it takes a few to register into this world.

What i learned today:

Don’t eat cranberries in the morning.

It doesn't pay to pour out all of the paint at once.

There are two reasons to keep the phone on overnight - family may call about someone in trouble; someone on the other side of the world is calling, in which case i need to answer because it’s convenient for them.


Here is an example of hotel art that looks a though the photographer jumped out of the window to take the shot.


When staying in the tiny cliff trapped town of Tris Ekklises there were three women that intrigued me so very much. I’ve begun picturing them into illustrative paintings - here is the beginning draws over three grounds on 300# paper. Only a mere. Will catch up soon.

Three stars flared + died in daylight

my shaded prying eyes so very curious

as they wiled at tris ekklises

floating on the water 

like three amused bouys

with hats + not much else

they whispered greek + cackled

sisters that met daily 

those infamous triplets

landladies of the beach that knew them so very well

shaking w/ laughter dabbling in the Aegean

with the might of a million years 

repository of the human nack

the surf revealed them as human

wading up onto the detritus shore

+ each pulled damp fabric cocoons 

over a worn satiable body

sentient breathing animations

but who am i to say

perhaps a disguise fooled by some

to me still

they were three graces

just hanging out


Odd, i’m thinking I never feel totally completely awake in the winter.

6pm winter is not 6pm summer. Summer at 6 you’re thinking ah - 4 more hours of daylight.

I can feel winters work coming to an end. 

The internal begins to move outwards, more and more.

Doing good work, on a plateau. But working towards an ascension piece. It’s fairly obvious. A push through piece. And then another plateau. I can always point to those works in retrospect. The art has a deep resonance. They wipe me out … but i always seem to be chasing that high - ever since I felt it. It’s times like these that I rely on imagination, more than intelligence. 

My greatest relationships have been with artists. Working collaborations. Collaborating. That’s always been my true quite profound excitement.

I do love the idea that artwork comes from a deeper place than personality. If there’s a line up of people and a line of art - who could match them up?



I have figured a few things out. Thanks for all the clues.

Random thoughts: 

The skin of the place that separates is very thin. 

New / Like-New; In the theater world when a contemporary garment is built the best compliment you can receive is that it looks store-bought-new. A warm hat and great-coat may be seen for 15 seconds in the dark. As the tenor dashes onto the stage and into the aria throwing off the winter garments - the stage lights glow on and the prize for 30 hours of studio work is seen in a pile on the couch.

Still: i am humbled and amazed at the energy that flows through and what is created by hand.

Tip your hat with a knowing of an outcome already done — if you're asking, this implies it does not exist. 

In standing still one can be in fashion every - 12 years? - or so, without ever having to change.

When anger leaves what has been fueling you that is when honest reckoning begins.

Honest Reckoning - unlike absolute change - is not always dynamic immediate and unchangeable. 

"I couldn't believe it to be" - I like that immensely.

I was just wondering if - when a rabbit gets out of its coop she’s thinking she’s leaving the free world and getting into a cage. 

And remembering when i was a kid, i thought small talk meant you use short words.

One more - just when I thought I was down so low —  the soundtrack at the A&P spills out Jackson Browne. Possibly the original emo.

Still thinking … but that's the wonder of the thinking.

-images and details from the shard corpus.


Revisiting - friends come and go, move away, you exit from theirs. Some you barely know - but cant forget them - just walking into a room. Some remain with you your entire life. I do know that people change, times change, and relationships evolve and come back around in ways that we never expect, in ways we have no way of imagining.

Welcome the human condition traveling without a map or controls - the rest is deva vu and cryptomnesia. It’s all we can do.

Watch those wicked desk vu days - mentors are not always obvious.

What I learned today:

• Hand signals are not universal. 

• Balancing the act is something we come back to again + again.

• Reckoning words have changed meaning.

• You never know who’s life you are saving with your work, + you may never know.

Meraki Issue #8 is out and about.

 To my patrons who make the Meraki Issues project happen.

Thank you for your supporting the art work at hand + my work in particular.




Reconciling paintings. 

With irreconcilable thoughts. 

It doesn’t matter what color I put on the brush it seems to come off as putty, French blue or grayed violet. Those are the colors I work with the most at this moment. There must be something missing in my palette as I can mix anything and these three appear. I know color, and it’s not suppose to be this easy. Or so tragic.

If something is so very obvious perhaps it is a truism. But, are all truisms obvious?

What I learned today:

Wing themes cycle.

Fabric is forgiving.

I only make mistakes when I know what I want.

A potential for options at the quantum field is energy + so responding to energy- is bridging the quantum reality as a new normal.

Above: An unfinished reworking of Icarus Descending.


I’m okay with people not knowing my side of the story. I don’t feel like I need to prove anything. But all things being equal … 

I just had what I believe to be an identity crisis. Of the worst irrational sorts.

That my entire life had been in-waiting as an imposter. I’m the understudy and the lead has never broken her leg. 

Nothing stuck, I can blame it on moving around a lot, I could blame it on not focusing on one thing to get brilliant with it, I can blame it on always focusing on the next thing, the next bright shinny thing. Choices were big deal in my life - of more directly, having options at any given time were important.

But it comes back to me. I made those decisions, every decision. I’m not the forever kind.

So in this morning mopping up after an identity crisis — sadly, all I could think of was to work harder.

I close my eyes + remember I'm inside the human condition.

 It does become so much easier to run when we believe something is chasing us. But is that more important than waiting for the present to catch up? I’d Rather hide behind my work than talk about myself.

Foot the bill + then pay for life as a side project. 

That side project will be a change of mind on the morrow.

Recently a friend forward this: That's me, below, during art school days. Tied to a NYC bank pillar. Early pirate phase, though I did not know it because the mass pirate phase had not caught up + named it yet. 



Meraki - A word describing doing something with soul, creativity, or love -- when you put something of yourself into what you're doing, whatever it may be.

That whatever-it-may-be comes in infinite packages, everyone has one - Mine is building Meraki Issues + dispatching them to my dear patrons. 

Each quarterly perzine is a deep blend on an overall theme. It’s also a challenging project that keeps me honest + on the rails.

From my seat, collecting images, mistakes, drafting prose + confessions have always been an important part of what encompasses my studio work. This is the nitty gritty process stuff that may never see the light of day, never hit the gallery, or even become full blown finished. Some ideas are really never meant to leave the studio, don’t you agree? But I believe all the bits deserve a way out. The zine form accommodates.

A huge shout out to current patrons who make these issues possible. 

Thank you for your supporting of art work at hand + my work in particular.

Harnett Hargrove 

Harnett Hargrove
Harnett Hargrove


 A moment of  no-truth. 

Overhearing someone editing a photo on a device … Can you imagine? In the ‘70s -  when you just had to take a good shot?

… and in a fabric store hearing someone talking excitedly about a project. It’s nice to hear someone genuinely thrilled to be sewing.

Life travels along side us and is usually pushing or pulling. The least we can do is stride along - isn't that enough?

I sent a text message that did not get my drift and returned spelling option over again and again. I think this is a common plight of folks that can’t get anywhere near the spelling of a word they want to use. I do not like the solution - to only use words you can spell even though it abbreviates your vocabulary. 

exploring exploiting exploding

Splintered dreaming of a library art session. I get there + kb has already started his genius piece from a broken broom + folded trash he found in the street on his way to class. There is an old friend from Germany. I admire the arch that they had just recently reworked - but, is nothing good enough as it is? 

Lucid dreaming of appreciating something simply as is. 

Thinking of not rethinking schemes to redesign bitterness. 

Does this make sense read slowly?

Below: Grounds waiting to become grown up paintings.




Harnett-Hargrove, Harnett, Hargrove

I remember where; I was living in Maine, involved with building a co-housing artist community. And so, I must remember when. The mid ‘80s. I was going through an expressionistic phase and putting auras in drawings. Cartoonish, to be sure. But the work was dead serious. I remembered these - but only found bad detail images of the works on paper. After Koudelka’s captivating photography. It is interesting to figure what was going on when past moments were recorded in your life — as  art is a recording of your life.

I heard today via internet that Danny Kaye is only remembered by his aging audience - something profoundly sad about that, if it is true.

Write about it again … you’re not done with it. 


Of literary devices never used.

Nightmare projects listing themselves.

Non-sequitur - write a story of a man flip booking through an encyclopedia or switching the tv from channel to channel.  

A trilogy that goes together kicking and screaming.

Someone in the next room trying to get all the attention. 

My attention. 

Did you hear?

It all seems miles away.  


An invitation ....
 to join others who receive Meraki Issues quarterly. Meraki is my quarterly perzine that I share with patrons. On the site you’ll also find slices of what’s on the work table, what’s on my mind + what’s down in the watershed …  + the process that pushes it all out on stage.

Have a sit with the Meraki mix to send your mind off on another adventure where the vicarious triggers your own vocabulary of personal memories. 

Check into Patreon to see how.


-yours, as forever grateful. 


-suport / mutual appreciation / reciprocation