More Chaka Chakas

This one is titied "Sex In The Ocean". Not on the Beach but in the ocean. 

THIS IS HOW SHE LOOKS UNDER THE MOONLIGHT BEFORE OCEAN SEX.

I've been busy doing this, painting for food, tobacco, and alcohol. Everyday I'm greatful that I don't have to work some stupid 9-5. Plus, doing art I get to meet and fuck hot girls every time I do a show. Living a dream and dodging bullets like the matrix. P.S. Relationships are stupid and Feminists are severely mentally ill.

Staying Productive Painting Ass

Rolling up pieces of old cigarette butts and cigars being nocturnal and painting. Staying hungry and grinding it out. It's the only way to achieverify greatness. Picasso created some ridiculous number of pieces in his lifetime and my goal is to top that. One painting at a time. Stay Dirty, a little cold, and alot of hungry. That's the golden road to success. Here's an insight to my filthy mind and gorgeous muses with a side of creativity.

THAT LOOK ON HER FACEWHEN SHE KNOW YOUR ABOUT TO CUM IN HER MOUTH AND SHE PULLS IT OUT.

BECAUSE JAINAS LOVE LOUIS VUITTON 

A GORGEOUS FRIEND AND AMAZING LOVER

WELCOME TO PARADISE

NALGAS

EVEN THE HORSE IS IMPRESSED WITH HER TWERKING SKILLS. HE'S ALL LIKE , "MAKE IT CLAP" 

 WHEN YOU PULL HER PANTIES TO THE SIDE AND YOUR BONIN THEN  SOMEONE COMES OUT WITH A CAMERA AND TAKES A PICTURE

BECAUSE JAINAS LOVE HEARTS AND SOME TIMES THEY LIKE IT ROUGH

ASS EVERYWHERE

PRETTY GIRLS SAY FUCK YOU

THAT ASS THO

ISN'T SHE GORGEOUS

TAKE IT DEEP

SHE LIKE TO SWALLOW

FISHNET STOCKINGS ARE HOTT

TITANIUM ASS

ONE OF THE SEXIEST GIRLS I'VE HAD THE PLEASURE OF KNOWING

 KREATIVE DEOXYRIBO NUCLEIC ACID . (KDNA)
KILLER DEOXYRIBO NUCLEIC ACID
(KDNA)
KINGS DO NOT ASK
(KDNA)
KILLERS DO NOT ANSWER

Time Lapse Lion King Shit

A TimeLapse video of a painting I did for Pablo Gomez, this is in no way shape or form original. But it looks dope!

oil painting of my pops.

A computer screen with a photograph of an oil painting I did of my father. Based on a photograph of him in the 80's rocking his Charro gear in a pimp ass vest. Origionally painting was 18" x 24" before it got stolen or misplaced. I have no idea what happened to it.

Rose Stencil

This is closeup of a five layer rose stencil I made just for the fuck of it, I sold a few, got a few stolen, and this is tge last of two that I kept. It was a hand painted series of about 12. They're about 18"x 24". Inspired by my mother's garden when I was growing up. Roses were the first thing I saw when I walked up to my house as a teenager, drugged out of my mind. I no longer do drugs but they have played a huge role in my life.

Pacquiao Painting

This is a watercolor painting that I did of Manny Pacquiao years ago. It was stolen in 2011 so it was painted sometime before then, notice the KDNA bandanna on the bottom right hand corner. I probably shouldn't tell the story of how they were stolen cu there's alot of drugs and crazy people involved. Anyways Pac Man fights today, hopefully he beats Mayweather. My favorite part of this painting was the gloves and the belt, they came out dope! Pacquiao is an amazing fighter and an even better person, he really cares and puts his people up. Google that shit.

The 51/50s

This is just gonna be a giant clutter of information in random order. The first 51/50 I was taken from a 7-11 after acting histerical. I don't even know what the hell I was doing there or how I got there, the only thing I recall is the police showing up and the ambulance arriving shortly after. They loaded me on to a stretcher and hauled me to the nearest hospital. As I was being taken one of my gorgeous friend was crying. Shorty prior to that, some events occurred that had eventually lead up to her being evicted from her apartment. I wake up in the hospital, I think they drugged me on the way, I remember laughing and repeating the lyrics, "we don't need no walkie talkie, no, no walkie talkie." These lyrics were repeated in reference to my strong belief and practice,at the time, of being able to tap into and utilize telepathic communication. As the home girl and the homie sat beside me at the hospital, I kept laughing historically and the laughed with me.

It was a strange discomforting, schitsophrenic savagery  I experienced for two months on end. This was only the first instance. I was shot up with atavan and put to sleep as I was on 72 hour watch. They released me and I got a ride home. Back to the purple hell hole of a room which was once a paradise. At a certain point I began thrashing the apartment as I believed I was hearing and feeling the neighbors thoughts through the walls. I had consumed so much drugs that my senses were hyper-sensative To my surroundings. I began to shatter 3 foot long purple lightbulbs, throughing skateboards through the walls, damaging some paintings before some fag got stole most of em. I have very little artwork left from that era but I keep producing like the mad man I am. There were times where I could not find any socks so I would walk around barefooted in thin glass covered carpet. Somewhere along the way I ran out of contacts (corrective lenses ). And the last pair of corrective vision glasses I owned flew out of my friends car window as we were driving back from a trip to the Monterey Peninsula on the northern central California coast. My vision is 20/80 in one eye and 20/100 in the other. Far from 20/20 my vision was fucked. For the duration of those months I couldn't destiguish if I knew the person or not until they were 1 meter away from me. I feel that my vision being compromised was a big part of my frustration and inability to cope with society at the time. Everytime jets or helloicpters flew overhead I was certain the thermal reading scanners were on me. In my mind I had the irrational fear that I was being threatened by a greater / powerful group of people. The loud overhead flights symbolized death for my team. I was alone and flipping the fuck out. The only time any sense of normality came over me was when there was people around. The sense of I and great self importance flooded my mind. I didn't know who was working for who and who I could or couldn't trust. Throwing gallons of paint off of my balcony onto the street. This was some of the events and thought processes that surrounded me. Plus there were local pimps, like literal pimps, and members of three different neighboring gangs that would stop by to smoke meth and drink. That was an awkward feeling cus on the streets they're supposed to be sworn rivals but we all hung out. Then there was the cool tweaker from down the street that spend alot of time at a nearby frat house. There was the two army veterans who were also in the drug circle and hated eachother. All of the charachters kept changing. At one point I had no keys to the art mentioned which was upstairs, so I would climb my downstairs neighbors fence, jump and pull myself up on the balcony to enter my place through the sliding door. I stopped buying food cus I had no source of income. I broke my phone and it got disconnected anyways. So there was no way for me to contact anyone. It was very apparent on my Facebook that was experiencing a severe compromise of my mental health. My Internet was disconnected, I gave away my television. It was bad. Ocassionally people would stop by and feed me. On another occasion I ended up at a ranch near the base of the sequoia mountains. That was the funniest 51/50s of them all. Someone near the friend whose ranch we were on called the sheriff because of my strange, out of touch with reality behavior. As usual they put me in th car called the ambulance, strapped me into the fucken poetable bed with wheels, (stretcher) and took me into a small hospital in Reedly. It was hilarious because in a moment when the nurses weren't watching, I got up, removed the straps that restrained me to the bed on wheels, and walked to a gas station across the street, there I acquired 50 cents from a good Samaritan and proceeded to use the pay phone. I called the home girl and she drove 45 minutes to come and get me. There were 3 other occasions in the United States in that time frame that I was taken in, but it's too much to type as I blog on the phone.

The last time was when they shipped me off to the mental hospital where they fed me powerful drugs and I also ate like a king. People at mental hospitals eat like champions. plus they had a gym and beautiful bat shit crazy women.

That was the last straw before I was eventually shipped off to the mental health / drug and alcohol rehabilitation center in Mexico. Now that was some CRAZY CRAZY SHIT!!! Mexican rehab is no fucking joke! It was way worse then American jail. I know because I went to American jail in 2008 for graffiti. And jail was a 5 star hotel compared to Mexican Rehab.

THIS MIGHT BE WHAT SCHIZOPHRENIA  👇LOOKS LIKE👇

These paintings are kind of like a response to the following story: Painted 1 year following the series events that occurred in late 2011 / early 2012.

I'm not sure to be honest. All I know is that I have a deep mistrust for the medical industry and clinical psychiatry. In 2011 when the doctor at the mental health institution spoke to me, he diagnosed me after a 5 minute conversation and said, "Go home and take these pills, therapy might help, blah blah blah". That Foo said, "Drug Induced Schizophrenia." 5 minutes ain't shit, you cant just talk to someone for five minites and say this is what u need. In my head I was like, {"I know you come from a rich family and make ridiculous amounts of money, you're old and don't have time to hear a person out. More than likely you don't care and are in a rush because you have great grand children, but God damn; that's it!!! go home and take some syroquill."} (The psychiatric facility off of Herdon and Cedar is really nice tho.) I took the pills and they fucked me up!!! Like more than I had anticipated. I could not for the life of me process information. I was completely Zombified. To the fullest extent of the word. Walking around with bright white dead eyes, it was strange, I hated it. I'm pretty sure syroquill kills people. Damn pharmaceutical company indusrty, profiting off of societys slow deterioration of people's mental fabrics. I wouldn't consider myself to be very smart or hyper political. But I know enough to know that that shit is fucked up. The industry of western medicine is fucked up! Anyways, I guess I should talk about how I got to the mental hospital.

 👇

I wish I had pictures to show from the whole experience. I can go on about it for miles, but I'll give you the summarized version. It all began shortly after a break up from a really, really, really long relationship. Plus it was the year of my Chinese Zodiac and as we all know that means it was destined to be a terrible year. Damned you astrology with your insanely accurate wisdom and forshadowing abilities. The future was looking good, I was attending college, living in my own apartment acoss the street from the University. About 1 year shy of obtaining my bachelor's degree in fine art. I had a good job, a car that I got with a fat scholarship straight outta high school. And let me remind you I don't come from money. There wasn't a single rich kid in the town I grew up in. If a muthafucker made money, then his family got the fuck outta town faster than things that are fast. I mean it wasn't a third world country, but it was amongst the closest thing you can get to it in the states. Anyways, I was living the dream in full effect. At this point I was still smoking weed daily, which may or may not be great, depends on the person, but I would still highly recommend it to most.   Started smokin herb about the age of 13. Around that time I began to consume hard drugs somewhere near the age of 14. That's about normal, right? I think. Well, at least common around my neck of the woods. So back to college, n life was good, post break up pre 5150. Smokin bud everyday, chillin with jainas at school, havin them dolla dolla bills yall. Soon I began goin to the bar across the street from my pad ( place of residence) evereryday. Which was perfect, because I didn't have to drive. Plus it was perfect to keep the post bar party goin. Just migrate across the street to my place. The spot had a balcony street view called the "gun range". Everyday jainas goin to and from school, the smoke shop with a painting of Jimi Hendrix looking at me every morning as I ate my routine breakfast of cup of noodle soup. (MARUCHAN!) The gun range was the gun range cus gettin at jainas was like shooting ducks on nintendo. Hollering at girls goin to and from college all day n bar people floating around drunk at night. Anyways back to the story weed everyday, countless heads rollin in and out of the pad, the homebase, the bat cave, the galeria - It was decked out with all my paintings. Most of which were stolen and never retrieved. The partying occurred daily for a few months on end. And of course when you get down with downers, you always wanna get up and keep going, so cocaine in was a must, lots and lots of cocaine. There was a good flow comin in from outta town and great connects in town. Everyone there at the time was down to party so we re-uped often. It was awsome! For a lil while, great memories, I freestyle rapped alot at the time, plus the place was always lit up by ten industrial grade purple light bulbs. Super Dope, Super Dope! Not to mention all the amazing pussy in that short timespan, but I won't get into that right now. This ain't no fuckin 50 shades of gray... but there was, daaannnggg. Getting distracted reminisccing. So now we have purple lights, weed alcohol, cocaine, jainas. The diet was pizza from across the steel daily, of course with pepperoni chemicals to help rot our minds. It wasn't long into the binge til I stopped attending school. A few more months into the binge and I lose my job. WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. NO JOB =NO MONEY, NO MONEY = NO PARTY, and no party means people start to dissappear. Oh, there was also a few occasions of eating hallucinogenic mushrooms in the city as friends drove me around drunk and hi. A few instances where I smoked heroin, (never injected). A few random pharmaceuticals, even though I hate and don't trust pills. Several instances of meth smoking. (Which I did often as a teenager.) And yeah, pretty much. And yeah... it was the beginning of the end, the great come down to every hi, I began to frakin lose my mind. The beginning of all the 51/50s. 

I'LL PICK UP WHERE I LEFT OFF NEXT POST.👇

👋🍑 The Space Twerkers👇👇

Because Girls be Twerking it Hard in the Digital Realm

Video credit to the homie from Creative Eye / Retrospect.

Country Livin!

Kreative DNA

All Day

Hospitals

I went to the hospital today that shit was hilarious. Since I'm technically not employed being a starving artist perusing happiness and all that good stuff. I get this awsome thing called medi-cal. Which is like free health insurance for the poor. It's Monday now and I had been dripping feverish sweat since Friday night, on the verge of collapsing multiple times with a throbbing three day headache, body aches, swolen throatitis, and an ear infection. (Damn you climate change and mentally induced malnourishment..) Anyways yeah, the people at the hospital were hilarious. As I'm standing in line to check into the ER. I start sweating and feeling dizzy. I tell one of the nurse ladies in the lobby n she notices my pale sweaty face and slurry voice. Immediatley starts bombarding me with questions. This was at about 11 a.m. today. Which Is early as fuck for me. My blood pressure is 76/42 when the normal is 120/80. So I'm in a state of hypo-tension. They put me on a thing with wheels n roll me to the red zone in the back. Like 6 people walk into this tiny room ( curtain divided section of the you know) with me n one by one as they come in they all ask the same question... "What's wrong with him" idk if I have a wierd sense of humor. By the time I reach the back room I start feeling better and they just keep making me laugh. They each come on with different machines and wires. 3 electrocadiograms 2 x-rays and two big pouches of I.V. (SALT WATER) later. Mixed with a few random shots of stuff that made me feel warm later. About two hours, and I'm off with a prescription for pills I don't like to take. Some wize Foo once said, "let thine food be thine medicine n thine medicine be thine food." Anyways the funniest part was when the doctor asked the lazy nurse, "Keeping the patients alive?" She responds non-schalauntley, "eeehhhh, if it's their time it's their time, what can you do." ( Bitch! You can save them as you're medically trained to do - thots in my head). I was like wtf. It's the ER. I think You're supposed to at least try. I couldn't help but laugh out loud (literally, not like the lol every other text type). Every other line was a joke, in between they would ocassionally mumble stuff about patients but mostly personal stories and jokes. In my head I'm like, yeah, fuck it, it makes sense, you're supposed to have fun at work. But these people have been working here so long they have a complete desensitization of the physical death of the human specimen. I saw at least 5 or 6 people rolled thru on gurneys that looked beat up as hell or on the verge of dieing. They were all like eh, another day another patient. Anyways that was my great hospital experience today. Before that I had only gone to hospitals for births, deaths, and 51/50s. I'll blog about the 51/50s another time, there's alot of content there. Those were good times. Anyways, here's some random pictures of art stuff from the archives cus thats how I eat. Eat, Sleep, And Breathe Paint. Sometimes not the breathing part tho, a few people have tod me I have sleep apnea. + A picture of me at the hospital today. Such a great feeling to be catered to by all these hot nurses. PS, my friend works at a hospital n she says Doctors get blowjobs from nurses all day in vacant rooms. (Lucky Guys)... But they went to school a long time, i guess they've earned it. Then the nurses go home to kiss their kids and husbands with Doctor Cock Breath. She calls it a breeding ground for affairs... Idk, But Being aware of that and observing the dynamics, I can definatley see it. Doctors direct nurses and nurses do what they can to get favortism / preferance... I can dig it.  Almost makes me want to reconsider my career choice, but nah, I like to write / paint on stuff.

Obviously Stencil Process layered animals from my paranoid monster head.  (Penny Weights) Above.




Below is stuff and stuff... 228's... you'll figure it out. just read with your analytical eye. Not the other one.

Fuck It In The System

Lately I've got alot of FUCK IT in my system. Since I don't have a wife, children, or girlfiend (Thank God). Or people to nag at me about what to to do, or not to do for that matter. I began to research twerking videos gathering from the best the cyber realm has to offer. The research gets intense. The research went well. I had conclusive findings that there are many gifted women out there with access to video recording devices. The end result are the following drawings. Based on the modern phenomenon. Twerking, Twerkout, Twerk It, Shake It. You Know you watch those videos on world star hip hop. Don't lie.

Pink chonis and green yoga pants. ummmm

Distorted drawings worm holes and buttholes.

 Drawings in pen, water color and Ink.

Getting Smashed in the Mountains is the Fucken Best!

Getting smashed in the mountains is the fucken best. 

Some throwback pictures from December. One was the day my (cousin), whom I refer to as my brother in Mexico got married.We rolled up to the birthplace of my parents to do a photo shoot and get wasted of course. It was a beautiful day, all I kept thinkin was damnit, we lost another one. Why the fuck do people get married. I'm happy for my bro, don't get me wrong. The wedding was beautiful, in the church with some dope philosophy for the sermon, superfat party with dope live music n family n all that cool shit. But all the homies and relatives that are married or in long term relationships waste their time bickering over dumb shit. Like who was right or wrong about where they parked, n asking eachother for permission to do shit. Fuck that!!! We should all do what we want, when we want. Never Restricting ourselves to the confines of sacrificing years of commitment, and loyalty; for something that's gonna end up in divorce or someone that's gonna do you dirty in the long run. All because they get bored of the mundane repetitiveness that is a relationship. That's just my opinion. Anyways, getting smashed in the mountains is dope, the other day was rollin up the mountain in a back of a truck drinkin Johnnie walker red label with the home girl D. My down ass hilarious home girl from Mex. There was a gathering of about thirty friends and fam, us being Mexicans we drank like mofos as usual, fire, acoustic music, bomb food, the usual stuff.

Mexico Murals

Dis proportionate wall plug figure cut.

These are pictures from a mural I painted in the best barbershop on the North American Continent In the state of Zacatecas in Mexico last year. The homie Joan gets down on cutting hair. I took a suitcase full of paint, spraypaint, PaintPens and a bunch of other shit.  Chilled out there for about a month, mostly getting smashed and listening to banda music, mingling with the locals n chillin with fam, going to events n yeah. A few days before returning to the states we started talking about the mural. I took one of  the local monuments, "Los Arcos", and dropped it on the background. Since the homie has a bike crew, the bici-quetsalcoals, (terribly misspelled). I tried to sound it out. I dropped a skeleton riding a bike with flat tires of course, the way most people tend to like to roll (Nowhere Fast). Blended the rasta colors since that's the music of choice in the scene, added my tag n vualah. It was dope chillin n having some brew as we painted, At that time I was still smokin weed everyday so I would take breaks to walk down the street to the the park, (el Parque caxcana raza). Get super hi, then come back laugh and paint. played a lil foozeball, futbolitos, which I'm terrible at, n yeah. Sombrero are a must for the calaveras, a symbol of much of the region as it serves a purpose of keepin hard workin maufuckers from baking in the sun. The other one I dropped their team logo on the chest, gotta represent. Feather in the cap n all that, old English cus it's classy. Another day at work.

What's Goin On Now

Since I'm new to this I got a gang of stories to let blast into the cyber realm. For now ima put up stuff that's goin on now. I have 3 murals in the works which will probably take a while to finish, they're all kind of different. I don't really know if I've developed that consistency that most artists have with their work. I feel like I switch styles every other painting just to keep myself from getting bored, like Jay Z' s -Twenty Two Twos off the instant classic ReasonableDoubt. The debut of the now legendary rapper. Superb lyrical content and beats that knock. Easily in the top 5 best rap albums of all time. If you've never heard it I highly recommend it. Anyways here's some pictures of three murals in the works currently in Fresno, California. The first one is based on African Tribal Roots. The second one is the "Eye of God" or Ojo de Dios, as used in Ancient Latin American Cultures, with the hallucinogenic cactus, The Purple Peyote in front of it. And the last one is Charros Perdidos, a long concept that I'll rant about in a later blog. Its in collaboration with the Homies from the Barrio Art Collective. Ill Post better pictures as the painting is finalized and progress is made. They're combinations of Spray Paint and Other Pigments.

For The Longest

For the longest time, people been tellin me I should start a blog. So ima start typing a bunch of stuff cus it seems theraputic. Many people will be offended and many words will be mis spelled. For the people that know me, you'll probably read a bunch of stuff you didn't know about me. For those of you that don't know me, feel free to write hateful things when my personal philosophy and belief system doesn't coincide with yours. I paint for a living and the motto is "Paint on Everything, All the Time." I enjoy writing and drawing on things that aren't mine. They add a lil bit of color Gods grey the world. I travel and do gallery exhibitions as well as murals. I have one life to live and no fucks to give. By the grace of God, I've dodged many bullets and have no children. (Matrix Style).

I was born in California, but am Mexican to the core. To this day both of my parents barley speak english and I go back to the motherland as often as I can. There's alotta cool shit to do in Mexico. The above picture was taken at a Dope ass bar, deep in the arteries of Mexico, when I was drinkin' with the home girl D, I got super fucked up (faded) that night and walked to the crash pad as the sun was coming up. My grimpa said, "Don't walk around the streets at night, cus the drug lords will kidnap you" (In a Spanish mumbled voice), so we chilled and drank til sunrise. Gotta follow Grimpas Advice. Drink til sunrise as they do sometimes everywhere. I later digitally modified the picture cus it makes it look dope. I use the word Dope alot, cus it's a Dope word to use. Mexico is fucken dope!

Rabbits, Bunnies, and Conejos

Spray Paint and Paint Pen on 228's.

I developed this series of Stencils based on some paintings I did back in 2010. The paintings were exhibited at a gallery called •Arte Americas•  This a 5 layer stencil and the image is created using spray paint. It is THE RABBIT, since it's my Chinese Zodiac and that shit can be scary accurate. I'm alot more cautious now about doing graffiti since I was arrested for it back in 2008. I try to stick to paid mural commissions and gallery stuff. They had someone follow me and I was stupid and I didn't run when the two cop cars pulled up on me, I was surrounded. (Shoulda fucken booked it Omar). The guy pointed at me n said, "Hey you, come here" I ignored him and kept walking but there were two cop cars n both the dudes were walking towards me with their hands on their hip. One from the front n one from behind. So I stopped they searched me, locked me in a room, then lied to me.  Originally the charges were 17 felonies and 32 misdemeanors, but since I was goin to school at the time, the judge dropped it to 1 misdemeanor and 3 counts. It could have been alot worse. (What they tell you to take the judges deal) - Sketchy ass dumb face Public Pretender Fucker. $2,000 Dollars was the fine, four days was the wait period and it was "only" one year probation. The charges were trespassing on private property, destruction of private property, destruction of public property & a bunch of other random shit I can remember. (I'll Find the minute order and post it someday maybe). There's more to the story but ill break it down another time. Anyways, these are rabbits, and street art is the sport of choice.

Addicted to Social Media

Lately I've become addicted to Social Media. I like Facebook but I Mostly use Instagram. I stayed off it for the longest cus it's gotten me in trouble a few times in the past. Mostly I like to put ❤'s on pictures of gorgeous women in little clothing preferably shakin it and other dope artists doin their thing.

 Being an Artist is way different then your  average 9-5 job. It's a grind and a hustle, but if you have the skill and work ethic I highly recommend it. It's alot of networking and will power, but if you love what your doin, your Mondays will blur into the other days. Make your own schedule, do what you want when you want .Get Down and Get Props all while expanding your mind to dope music.