Angst a la Mode - painting of a skull representing the brain damage of anxiety with the contents of the skull replace with ice cream complete with a spoon for easy enjoyment of the dairy treat.

Angst a la Mode

WOODCOCK on September 17, 2026

05/2026 — 13.5″ x 12″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$450

Sometimes the problem with having a brain is having to live inside it.

Worry has a remarkable ability to feed itself. One thought becomes another, which becomes another, until you’ve worried about the original problem, every possible consequence, and several disasters that haven’t happened yet. Why don’t we replace the whole troublesome mess with a few scoops of ice cream?

If you’re going to lose your mind, you might as well have dessert.

SOLD
Regret Au Gratin - painting of a lady regretting her decision to eat those cheesy taters. Martin Luther himself thought his IBS was caused by demons...here they represent the lactose intolerance this poor lady suffers from.

Regret Au Gratin

WOODCOCK on September 17, 2026

05/2026 — 16″ x 12″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$450

Some regrets are foreseeable. That doesn’t necessarily stop us.

There are foods we know we’ll pay for later, but sometimes the promise of potatoes covered in bubbling cheese outweighs concern over future suffering.

Regret Au Gratin captures that unfortunate moment when pleasure gives way to consequence. Martin Luther himself attributed some of his intestinal troubles to the work of demons. Here they return to torment another poor soul who probably knew better than to eat all that cheese.

No regrets. Until there are.

SOLD
Gran Errores y Chicharrones - a painting about big errors that we can rehash in our minds forever or we can just dig into some chicharrones and move on.

Gran Errores y Chicharrones

WOODCOCK on September 15, 2026

05/2026 — 19.5″ x 12″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$450

Everybody screws up. The real question is how long you’re going to keep thinking about it. We have a remarkable ability to replay our mistakes long after there’s anything useful left to learn from them. Reconsider every decision. Imagine better outcomes. Reopen old wounds. Repeat as necessary.

Gran Errores y Chicharrones offers another possibility: accept that you blew it, get yourself some chicharrones, and move on with your life.

The past will still be there when the bag is empty.

SOLD
Frantic Cries and Frito Pies - a painting of a woman screaming in anguish over a bad of fritos preparados.

Frantic Cries and Frito Pies

WOODCOCK on September 15, 2026

05/2026 — 12″ x 7.5″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$450

Some problems are bigger than snacks. There are moments when everything feels like too much. You cry. You scream. You assume the worst. Eventually you get hungry.

Frantic Cries and Frito Pies pairs overwhelming anguish with the modest consolation of Fritos preparados—a bag of corn chips loaded with cheese, chili, jalapeños, and whatever else might make things slightly more tolerable.

It probably won’t fix anything. But it is a Frito pie.

SOLD
Ontoy Chamoy (Where am I? Chamoy Bear) - a painting of a chamoy covered gummi bear unsure of his place in the universe.

Ontoy chamoy

WOODCOCK on September 15, 2026

05/2026 — 14″ x 12″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$450

“Ontoy” is a playful contraction of the Mexican Spanish ¿Dónde estoy?—“Where am I?” Unfortunately, knowing how to ask the question doesn’t guarantee an answer. Sometimes you know exactly what you are and still have no idea what you’re doing here.

This little gummi bear confronts some of life’s more persistent questions: Where am I? How did I get here? What am I for? And why am I covered in chamoy?

SOLD
Cooked Cabbage and Emotional Baggage - a painting with a bowl full of cabbage and a suitcase full of trauma.

Cooked Cabbage and Emotional Baggage

WOODCOCK on September 15, 2026

05/2026 — 11″ x 12″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$450

Everybody comes with baggage. Some of us just need a bigger suitcase.

We drag old heartbreaks, embarrassments, losses, grudges, fears, and assorted damage along with us, long after we’ve forgotten why we packed some of it in the first place.

Cooked Cabbage and Emotional Baggage pairs all that accumulated psychic freight with a nice warm bowl of cabbage, because sometimes a rhyme is reason enough to make a painting.

SOLD
Existential Malaise and Pizza Buffets, a contemporary painting of an exhausted mother and two unhappy children posed like a devotional icon behind three pizzas, with angel and devil cherubs.

Existential Malaise and Pizza Buffets

WOODCOCK on July 28, 2026

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.

Pucheros y Huevos Rancheros painting of a pouty pin up girl who is a bit indignant about the impending battle heralded by the salt and pepper shakers over choosing red or green salsa.

Pucheros y Huevos Rancheros (Pouty faces and Ranchers Eggs)

WOODCOCK on July 28, 2026

05/2026 — 37″ x 30″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$950

Eventually, somebody will ask you to pick a side. Even at breakfast.

Pucheros y Huevos Rancheros—“Pouty Faces and Rancher’s Eggs”—was named with the help of my collaborator Anthony the Poet of San Antonio.

In a city serious about its breakfast tacos, even salsa can inspire debate: red or green? Our unhappy diner would apparently prefer not to participate. She just wants a little heat on her huevos rancheros without turning breakfast into a declaration of allegiance.

Sometimes red sounds good. Sometimes green sounds better. This shouldn’t have to be a thing.

Buried Guilt and Barbacoa painting of the buried, slow cooked mean being a metaphor of sorts for the buried guilt we are saddled with through original sin and our oedipal sexual desires.

Buried guilt and barbacoa

WOODCOCK on July 23, 2026

05/2026 — 55″ x 48″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$2400

Some things stay buried. That doesn’t mean they’re gone.

Buried Guilt and Barbacoa was one of four major works created for my collaborative exhibition with Anthony the Poet in San Antonio. The idea was Anthony’s contribution to our ongoing attempt to pair traditional and celebratory foods with the various anxieties of being alive.

Barbacoa gave us an unusually convenient metaphor. Something gets buried, left underground to smolder for hours, and eventually comes back to the surface.

Freud and the priest have their own theories about what else we’ve got cooking down there.

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