Are you ready to see the worst painting that has ever reflected the light of this particular sun?
HA HA HA. I don't remember exactly when I painted this, but I'm pretty sure I was in high school, so: old enough to know that eyewhites are not usually taupe, old enough to know that skulls are not heart-shaped think-asses crowned with cascading hair. Her chest-skin is my favorite, so chunky and nice--I love the way it melts over her curls. This is what you get for raising your children to be super-Catholics, people: fake icons of dead-eyed sadwomen wearing so much lipliner. The implication, I think, is that Little Christ is probably hanging off one boob down there, showering us with his trademark mercy by remaining just out of frame.