Santa Fe - Riot MIA

After the show, the girls were kind enough to let me crash with them in their hotel. We slept a few hours, and then I dropped them at the airport so they could fly to the next show in Salt Lake City. I however would not be joining them; I was going MIA and running off to Santa Fe.

Huh? Band is playing and Riot runs the other way!? Yeah, it’s true. Every now and then, I gotta go AWOl and do my own thing.


Lemme try to explain real quick. In 2001, I created my own mythology based heavily on the band. I created this epic narrative, the fans are heroes, and Rock Star is a God, so it’s pretty close to reality. That is the basis for all artwork that I do. Every drawing, every sculpture… So this drawing is from 2005 – it comes from a show the fictional band did – in Santa Fe.


For the past year, my focus has been to compile everything into one massive book. I write for an hour or so every day – and then I work on the illustrations. This drawing is Carnival – also from the Santa Fe show (I’ll do an entire blog post on Carnival later). Anyway – since 2005, I felt this weird need to make this pilgrimage to Santa Fe and commune with the spirit of Georgia O’keefe. So, I had to skip Salt Lake City – plus that and given the pagan basis for my work and all my jokes against organized religion – if I set foot in that city the whole place would go up in flames. You know, sorta like in Highlander when you can’t fight on holy ground and the last time two Immortals did was Pompey, but I digress…


So I left Denver before dawn and started on this beautiful drive.


I would later find this photo posted by Rock Star around the same time I was leaving Denver. “Why am I up?” he asked on his blog. Rock Star, you are up because we can never stop running. I’m up. The French Girls are up, Abby and Anna are up – we all are. You are not alone.




-I hear there’s trouble in Shangri-La…


Just like I imagined…I can’t believe I took this photo.


Rock Star’s photo. “Still driving.” He wrote under his pic.

Parallels are funny. I can’t tell you the number of times I will write something then he will post about doing the same thing the next day. I used to freak me out…now I’m just getting used to it.

(Once I struggled with a term to describe how the band line up changed. Should he have “restructured” or “Rebuilt.” The band? I wanted it to sound like something a tech guy would say, I think I went with rebuilt since it reminded me of what they do to Steve Austin. Next day – literally – the real rock star posted “Confirming a badly kept secret – I restructured the band.” Son of a bitch I got it wrong… No seriously though, what are the odds of that? - And it happens all the fucking time, I can’t stand it.)




-California rescue me, simultaneous release
-She’s your Priestess-




…Please, take this, and run far away…




You are what you are, and I wouldn’t want to change a thing, in spite of all the pain that love can bring, tell me what can I do? I’m so in love with you…


Raining, just like the Lightning Field.




Walking through the fairy tale…






Abby, look – Like, Actually.


Burro Alley. No really.


Georgia O’Keefe Museum.


I walk on the edge of a knife, and I might fall off. I’d go back and do it all again, I’d rather fall and know I did what I wanted to do.


She says, “God told me that if I painted the mountain enough, He’d give it to me.” God told her? God spoke to her, and – she admitted to it.


Driving, listening to Outside – The Voyeur of Utter Destruction – as Beauty.

Turn, and turn again
Turn, and turn again

I shake
And stare at the sun
Till my eyes burn


I shake
At the mothers brutal vermin

I shake
And stare at the watery moon
With the same desire

I shake
For the reeking flesh
Is as romantic as hell


The need
To have seen it all

The Voyeur of Utter Destruction
As beauty
I shake


Research has pierced
All extremes of my sex
Call it a day
Call it a day
Needle point life
Blinds the will to be next
Call it a day
Call it a day


But I have not been to Oxford town.


Tell the truth. Tell the trught. We Prick You we prick you we prick you-


Jesus Christ.






I just kept driving all day. I did not want to be inside. The sunset – and I knew I had to sleep – I was exhausted and half asleep all day – I had the big one ahead of me the next day. I watched TV – I watched Giuliani act like a bratty four year old, and Palin talk out her ass. It pissed me off.

TV on in the background – I wrote in my journal, I packed again, and passed out …