05/2026 — 30″ x 33″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$950

Gold rays. A halo. Cherubs. Symmetry. Instead of saints, we get an exhausted mother and her awful children. Not even pizza can cure their doldrums. One has to wonder what the evolutionary benefit there is in how we keep inventing small rituals—pizza, birthday candles, buffets, paper hats—to convince ourselves that today is different from every other Tuesday.

The painting eventually became the title piece for a collaborative exhibition with Anthony the Poet, where we paired existential dread with celebratory foods. Naturally, the opening featured an actual pizza buffet.

Posted by WOODCOCK

After a long exile in South Texas climbing out of a nihilistic funk, Otis Woodcock has found his way back to the open skies and quiet horizons of the American prairie. Having earned an MFA from Miami University, Ohio, he left his ancestral home in southern Indiana, spending the last three decades between Louisville, Kentucky, and San Antonio, Texas, developing his Iconoclasmatic Pop Art™ practice. On this journey, an anxious recovering Catholic and cancer survivor gradually evolved into the optimistic existentialist whose work is less interested in providing answers than in questioning certainty. Today, Woodcock lives and works where the seasonal rhythms and expansive landscapes of the Midwest serve as the backdrop for an ongoing exploration of belief systems, cultural inheritance, and the subtle poetry of ordinary things.

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