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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.

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.

Bad, News.

So,

So.

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!

art
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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