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
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
Raspas y Tristezas or "snow cones and sorrows" is a painting about the highs and lows of being a child. The joy of a snow cone and the tragic loss when it is dropped...and then there is the bees.

Raspas y Tristezas

WOODCOCK on September 4, 2026

05/2026 — 45″ x 48″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$2400

Childhood has a remarkable way of turning ordinary moments into emotional extremes. A snow cone is pure joy. Until it’s dropped. Then the world is briefly over. And somewhere nearby, there are always bees waiting to complicate things.

Raspas y Tristezas (“Snow Cones and Sorrows”) grew out of conversations with Anthony the Poet about growing up in San Antonio. He introduced me to the neighborhood raspa man, along with the strangely vivid memories—both wonderful and tragic—that could be attached to something as simple as flavored ice.