The drawing and poem below come from all the way back in 2017 …

I made a ghost of you
We hang out all the time
He’s everything that makes you you …
According to my mind

Still lingering in a corner on a number of older art pieces, like the markings of a child trapped in liminal space, is the strange moniker “lurm.”

I retired this moniker years ago but the ghost of this ghost has echoed awhile as it continues to fade.

This “nickname” I guess you could call it came my way during a heavy time where my artistry and intelligence had been muffled, disembodied, and sidelined into an almost cartoonish caricature of myself. One that was soft enough and whimsical enough to never command authority or center stage.

It sure would be more convenient for many if my ethos were more decorative rather than piercing; more cutesy rather than demanding of action.

But that’s just not really who I am or who I ever was.

For a time “lurm” functioned as a sort of escape pod from a narrowminded social infrastructure that judged and limited my artistic expression. But that escape pod became its own prison.

My playfulness reduced to childish naivety; my levity in the face of pain reduced to a fairy-like disposition held by someone nobody needed to take seriously.

That name “lurm” was never a real person; just a ghost that made a lot of people more comfortable to avoid the gravity of what someone forced into my position would be required to endure.

It’s not that that era has ended so much as that it was only ever a little play, running on little stages while real life went on without being attended to in the way that was necessary.

So that’s why I say “no more” rather than “the end.”

What never began in the first place doesn’t really need to end, now does it?

Take care,

Adrien

One of the conundrums of being an artist who is very much not driven by validation is the constant psychic warfare waged by those who presume they are the ones I am orienting towards.

When you are on a stage, people presume they are mere observers, not participants. But what better position to observe than the stage? Just because you can be seen doesn’t mean you don’t also see.

And conversely, just because you think you’re not “a performer” doesn’t mean you aren’t participating in reality with other people just as much as the person with the mic is.

A lot of people live life under the illusion that they are tourists and the impact of their presence is both temporary and optional.

Impact is inevitable, whether you grasp it and claim responsibility for it or not.

Here’s an art piece I live painted at a collaborative streamed event last summer (2025) with some excellent local musicians and AV geeks in Bellingham. I won’t give too much away about the painting other than to say I was deeply present to the fact that though I was being watched, that didn’t mean I wasn’t watching back.

As anyone with the courage to be visible does, I’ve dealt with a lot of rude folks presuming I am desperate for their (honestly, worthless) validation.

I think in many ways that’s a form of the coward’s desperate grab for meaning. Instead of claiming their own expression, they try to claim authority over the substance of someone else, by positioning their opinion as necessary for the other person’s creations to mean something.

BO-RING.

Here’s a pic someone snapped of me live painting at the event I mentioned, fondly titled the DREAM STREAM.

Whenever I am engaging in art, either as the creator or as the one getting to enjoy it, I like to ask myself, who really is the audience?

Don’t get cocky thinking you always know the answer to that question.

Peace,

Adrien

I shared a number of think piece articles rather brazenly to my professional network on LinkedIn around the turn of the year (2025–2026), using various original art pieces (including the one in this post) to support my points.

I didn’t exactly consciously intend for so much of my artwork to express what could be considered rather scathing performance reviews of “leadership” I’ve encountered in a professional context. Is it surprising, though, that incompetent use of power happens to be a subject my unconscious has a lot to comment on?

Also, is it necessary to limit that commentary to “unprofessional” contexts? I guess if I don’t want to offend certain power-trippers who I may still hope to acquire money from then it is necessary.

I guess simping just isn’t my style. Maybe that makes me stupid, or maybe that means I have a spine.

LinkedIn so far has somewhat ironically remained the only semblance of social media I haven’t yet completely ditched. Though by the time you (whoever you happen to be) find yourself reading this post that story may have changed.

Moving along … I was never cut out for a lot of the environments I tried to do good work in.

I say “I tried to do good work,” and actually I succeeded. In most cases, too much.

Doing good work does not create conditions for safety and respect and thriving. It often is exactly the thing that turns you into a target of abuse.

Am I saying that’s what this art piece is about?

Don’t expect me to make it so easy. 😉 I’m just saying some things while I put this art piece up on my blog.

I made it in 2021, just a simple charcoal drawing on paper. The original is 11″x14″ and I included it as part of the body of work featured in my show, Medicine of the Forest.

As humble and goofy it is I still find it to be one of my more sophisticated pieces conceptually, a favorite for sure.

Peace,

Adrien

Look at this tasty painting. I “worked” on it for something like five months. It sat on my easel looking coy; somehow the juices to power the last several brushstrokes needed to brew behind the scenes for much longer than seems reasonable.

I get it though; some art requires certain quests of you to be done right. My art has never just been pictures I control. It’s a conversation I’m having with myself and everything involved, and sometimes that conversation is a little over my own head.

I did finish the painting though.

Now it happily sits on a yellow wall in a cozy room, sharing what secrets it will with whomever has the guts or snark to inquire.

For all my audacious transparency I will never be without my own secrets …

… additional obvious statements await.

This piece is acrylic on canvas.

It was a long time coming after a six year period that had me keeping most of my work tucked away in my basement studio …

I’m very happy to be showing a collection of work in a couple weeks, at the beloved Make.Shift. This is the show poster.

The venue staff put together a little interview of me talking about the show theme. I said a whole lot in the 30 minutes we spent together and I am grateful they chose to include my mention of grief.

In my view, grief is knowledge, grief is a guide—grief is so important for what humanity is evolving through right now.

The painting featured in the poster image is called “Deep Friend,” and I’ve brought it around to various communal spaces over the past several years. It’s been a favorite and it looks cool in rooms filled with plants.

Here’s a little clip of me working on it back in the day.

Depth is one of those attributes that often gets mistreated and taken advantage of in exploitative and shallow environments, like the many I have outgrown.

There is nothing wrong with depth; there is a lot wrong with people who shun, belittle, and abuse depth. We can move on to create environments that honor it without their noise.

Peace,

Adrien