Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
2022
8 × 10 in. Shadow Box
Marker on Paper, Cut from Original Journal
Original / 1 of 1
Before World Cum became a finished painting, there was this.
In 2022, I kept a journal that I would randomly doodle in. I wasn't sitting down thinking I was creating artwork that would eventually hang on a wall or become part of a collection. I was just drawing whatever stupid idea happened to enter my head.
Apparently, one of those ideas was World Cum.
The original drawing is incredibly simple: a volcano violently erupting underneath the words WORLD CUM.
That's basically the entire joke.
The eruption becomes this completely ridiculous visual metaphor, turning something as dramatic and destructive as a volcanic eruption into one giant immature sex joke.
And I still think it's funny.
What makes this piece more meaningful to me now isn't necessarily the joke itself. It's what happened afterward.
I came back to it.
Years later, when I started taking my creativity more seriously, I didn't forget about this dumb little drawing buried in an old journal. I took the idea and created another version of World Cum. Something that originally existed as a random doodle became an actual piece in my body of work.
That's why I wanted to preserve the original too.
I cut the actual 2022 drawing out of my journal and put it into an 8 × 10 shadow box. I didn't redraw it. I didn't clean up the lines. I didn't try to make the volcano more realistic or make my old lettering look better.
This is the original.
I like being able to put the two versions beside each other because they show something I've started noticing about myself as I create more: ideas don't necessarily disappear when I finish drawing them.
Sometimes they come back.
Sometimes I understand them differently.
Sometimes my abilities change enough that I want to see what the same idea looks like through the person I've become.
And sometimes an idea is just stupid enough that apparently I need to make it twice.
There are pieces in my collection about love, death, loneliness, mental health, and some of the hardest parts of being alive.
And then there's a volcano ejaculating.
Both came out of the same brain.
That's probably one of the most accurate representations of my art I could give you.
2022
8 × 10 in. Shadow Box
Marker on Paper, Cut from Original Journal
Original / 1 of 1
Before World Cum became a finished painting, there was this.
In 2022, I kept a journal that I would randomly doodle in. I wasn't sitting down thinking I was creating artwork that would eventually hang on a wall or become part of a collection. I was just drawing whatever stupid idea happened to enter my head.
Apparently, one of those ideas was World Cum.
The original drawing is incredibly simple: a volcano violently erupting underneath the words WORLD CUM.
That's basically the entire joke.
The eruption becomes this completely ridiculous visual metaphor, turning something as dramatic and destructive as a volcanic eruption into one giant immature sex joke.
And I still think it's funny.
What makes this piece more meaningful to me now isn't necessarily the joke itself. It's what happened afterward.
I came back to it.
Years later, when I started taking my creativity more seriously, I didn't forget about this dumb little drawing buried in an old journal. I took the idea and created another version of World Cum. Something that originally existed as a random doodle became an actual piece in my body of work.
That's why I wanted to preserve the original too.
I cut the actual 2022 drawing out of my journal and put it into an 8 × 10 shadow box. I didn't redraw it. I didn't clean up the lines. I didn't try to make the volcano more realistic or make my old lettering look better.
This is the original.
I like being able to put the two versions beside each other because they show something I've started noticing about myself as I create more: ideas don't necessarily disappear when I finish drawing them.
Sometimes they come back.
Sometimes I understand them differently.
Sometimes my abilities change enough that I want to see what the same idea looks like through the person I've become.
And sometimes an idea is just stupid enough that apparently I need to make it twice.
There are pieces in my collection about love, death, loneliness, mental health, and some of the hardest parts of being alive.
And then there's a volcano ejaculating.
Both came out of the same brain.
That's probably one of the most accurate representations of my art I could give you.