Moods

Behind Schnitzelbank
Acrylic Latex on Wood
18"x24"
2008 Jason J. Loya

Tired, tired world...
Jaded, faded, sickly sound
Of lonely voices in a crowd--
The halls of possibility
Crowded with profanity
And jealousy deliberately
Feeds on our disguise.

Tired, tired world...
Mired by the whirl
Of nonchalant misgivings
And contaminated pride
As overdosed necessity
Bleeds our hearts until we're dry
And stoic substitution
Sterilizes passion,
Gently carving out what was inside.

Tired, tired world...
Independent meaning
In an isolated mind--
Room for warmth and wonder
Narrowed to a slice
Proportionate to desire
Or a sparkle in the eye
And lost on empty windows
And limited by sight,
Frivolous assumptions,
And complicated lies...

Waive our own humanity
And sever the ties that bind
And hide inside ourselves
And create our own outside,
Exclusively inclusive
Of whatever we don't deny--
Self contained societies
With artificial skies
Locked away in solitude,
Drifting silently through time--
Secure in our fragility,
Convinced of our virility
In a tired, tired world
As everything passes by...

Good night.

©Copyright 2008 Jason J. Loya

System
Ink and Pencil on Paper
©Copyright 2008 Jason Loya

©Copyright 2007 Jason Loya
Ink and Pencil on Paper

Charcoal and Oil Pastel on Paper
11"x14"

Christine slowly raises her hand, petrified with fear. The Stranger grins and holds out his hand. Suddenly, Christine's body seizes. She grabs her throat. She seizes again and heaves, finally opening her mouth and pulling something out...

Oil on Canvas
18"x24"

Headlong
A wayward wind
A wayward man
A toxic din

Long last
A Sanity
A vigilance
A rarity

What's wrong
With undue guilt?
With what you've felt?
With hand made hell?

Cuts deep
And bleeds a bit
And bites your lip
And takes a sip

Not that
You had a chance
You wore the pants
You stood your stance

Knew well
It wouldn't last
It had to pass
It had to crash

Just when
You thought you won
You had your fun
You made your run

Headlong
A waning trend
A fading wind
A fallen man.

©Copyright 2007 Jason J. Loya

Light in the corner
In a dimly lit room
What is that odor?
Is it lying sweet perfume?
Toxic ruminations
Feed on misconfigured mind
And animals would shiver
With the wild breeze of time
Are we growling?
Are we growing?
Have the ants shown any slowing
In their purposeful rendition
Of a line?
Have the ants shown any slowing
In the corner that is glowing
In the dimly lighted room
So full of lies?

©Copyright 2007 Jason J. Loya

This is an oldie but a goodie. Directed by Tim Smith, 2003:

This is an oldie. I made it in 2004. It was a study for a feature idea that never quite made it.

Structure I



Structure II



Structure III



Structure IV

Figure I



Figure II



Figure III