When I was a young man, in one of my obsessive creative phases, I did a lot of paintings. These are they:
Commuter
Nuclear warhead
Work
Spaced out in red
Spaced out in blue
Bedroom 1973
Dylan as a baby
Liz and Dylan
Are we well hung?
I thought I knew what I was doing
Sitting room 1973
Portrait of the artist as a young man
More sitting room 1973
Acne
The artist in a good light
Having a bad day
If this is “Art”, why do I feel the need to cut off my ear and send it to a whore?
Art class for beginners would be advantageous.
By all means cut it off.