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The Painting

by Christopher Robertsson 6 months ago in art

After acquiring a simple painting with a mysterious signature bad things start to happen.

original photo by Chris Robertsson of original painting

So as an art major I'm always collecting odds and ends I like mostly.

So as a fine art major. You know painting, sculptures, fine art, realism, portraits. abstract, yadda yadda yadda, social media always had me at a crossroads and a bit of a distraction.

I'm trying to focus on art and promote as well. Well hey. It's a business after all. So long story short besides my vents and simple daily frustrations, is, I have a hobby! Yes a hobby! Like most do. I hope.

I collect original art from np bodies. Like young aspiring artists on craigslist that are probably just trying to sell a delusional painting for twenty bucks to buy some go fast.

Or just a youngster or oldster looking to sell a scribble for some dribble and a beer.

So one mother fucking day I walk into the Goodwill in central Phoenix of Van Buren. Not the best choice but has wholesome I have lived and died smells.

I'm a little bit of a low life coinsure if you will. I like the wet alleys and stank hallways. Shit that concrete has breathed life.

Please stop reading now if you can't handle a dose of reality. And if you do you soft as fuck.

Yes. So I bought this crappy little painting. It was all reds, blacks and whites. I thought it would match my post modern Star Wars feel I was going for in my living room. I had the HD 70" ultra curved TV with a neon red light back drop so when you watch the newest star wars. Kylo looks ten times more legit.

So I thought this strange little painting of 12" X 15" would fit nicely as some filler in the corner. I kind of thought it looked a little like Adam the actor who played Kylo. So.


Well when I hung it up I knocked my new motha fu'effen you know what tv over! That was the first sign. This painting. Was bad.


Bad, News.



Then it happened. The painting fell and I found myself 20,000 years into the future. Hell earth is and was a myth at this space port I'm at now. I mention earth and they laugh. Time is of no consequence.

Some stranger shows me an old clipping of a piece of old earth newspaper in a modern paper? or thing? I'm not sure. It's ancient. Unfortunately I'm am starting to attract a lot of attention on the street asking about earth and seeing to know so much. This is the future. 20,000 years or 200 I don't know but this ain't earth and from what I can tell. Earth is long gone.

All I can remember is buy a creepy old painting with the name Luis Cypher on it. Odd. Shitty.

Luis Cypher. Maybe short for..

Wait. I know.

I know. Luisi-pher. Lucifer. You fucken tricked me again! Ahhh. I'm supposed to be free!

Now I'm stuck in this worm hole. My butts going to explode and I don't know if I can hold that burrito down I ate before I was abducted into hell. Or a time warp. Or something. Maybe it was just the weed wax I smoked and sold Mylee Cyrus when she saw the UFO's she recently recanted on social media. Probably worth a Google. Or maybe I'm just being in the spirit world not from peyotes but Goose Island IPA's. Not sure.

So wiggy wiggy what and you don't stop. A creepy picture is a last stop. Don't remind me of the last stop, You still haven't had the first stop.

Repeat/ Rhythm.

Sound off. 1234. 12..34!

Christopher Robertsson
Christopher Robertsson
Read next: I See You
Christopher Robertsson

Writer, creator and artist. I write, I draw, I tattoo, I paint, I eat. Hope you like.

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