Portrait of the artist as an out-of-shape middle-aged failure with an expanding waist, receding hairline, shrinking horizons and the feeling of living through the Beginning of the End Times (again) while struggling to make sense of a world he has long since given up even trying to understand by Terry Holland

I can’t remember how long it’s been there. Probably forever. A constant weight on my shoulder – sometimes the left, sometimes the right; always there, always pushing down. I call it The…

Continue readingPortrait of the artist as an out-of-shape middle-aged failure with an expanding waist, receding hairline, shrinking horizons and the feeling of living through the Beginning of the End Times (again) while struggling to make sense of a world he has long since given up even trying to understand by Terry Holland