Ritual -

Ennui Martini

WOODCOCK on September 15, 2026

05/2026 — 33″ x 30″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$950

Boredom is uncomfortable. Fortunately, we’ve invented cocktails.

Drinking has a remarkable ability to make an ordinary evening seem temporarily less ordinary. A little ceremony, a little conversation, a little chemical assistance—and suddenly there’s something to do.

Ennui Martini considers the peculiar bargain of drinking to escape boredom, when the thing making the evening more tolerable may also be quietly making everything else a little worse.

Iced Uncertain Tea

WOODCOCK on September 4, 2026

05/2026 — 50″ x 48″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$2400

Uncertainty is uncomfortable. That’s probably why we’ve invented so many ways to negotiate with it.

Tarot cards. Lucky coins. Tea leaves. Fortune tellers. Horoscopes. We don’t necessarily expect them to predict the future—we just hope they’ll make uncertainty a little easier to live with.

Iced Uncertain Tea imagines that search for certainty with an oversized Bill Miller iced tea—a San Antonio favorite—because the refreshment of sweet tea on a sweltering Texas day is one thing that’s never in doubt.

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.

Salty Snacks and Panic Attacks

WOODCOCK on September 4, 2026

05/2026 — 48″ x 52″

Acrylic on used fence pickets and dowel rods

$2400

The hardest choices aren’t between good and evil. They’re between things you enjoy and things you hope won’t kill you.

Somewhere along the way, ordinary decisions become strangely loaded. A bowl of pretzels. Another beer. Dessert. Just one handful.

The painting exaggerates that familiar calculation into a moment of paralysis, where every snack feels like a test and every indulgence carries the faint echo of future consequences.

Barbecue and the burden of being

WOODCOCK on September 4, 2026

05/2026 — 27.5″ x 30″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$950

Barbecue is a celebration. Smoke in the air, friends in the backyard, cold drinks, and something delicious on the grill.

It occurred to me one day that every barbecue is also a small memorial service. The pig, the chicken, and the cow are all invited, just not in the way they’d hoped.

We didn’t design this system, but we participate in it every day. Life survives by consuming life. Somewhere between gratitude and appetite sits the strange emotional burden of being an omnivore.

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.

Tiempo Poco y Fideo Loco

WOODCOCK on July 26, 2026

05/2026 — 30″ x 22″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$950

Time is short, but don’t rush your dinner.

Tiempo Poco y Fideo Loco grew out of my collaboration with San Antonio poet Anthony Flores for a series pairing existential fears with the traditional and celebratory foods that make being alive a little more enjoyable.

Fideo loco is a distinctly South Texas comfort food—a heartier relative of Mexican sopa de fideo, typically loaded with additions like ground beef, beans, and potatoes. Its humble ingredients and working-class roots have become part of what makes the dish so proudly San Antonio.

We’re all killing time until time kills us. Might as well have another bowl.

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.