The older I get the more I feel that we are leading broken, fragmented and/or fractured lives. It's like we are all going through some repetitious pantomime that's ultimately as fruitless as it is boring. Do we really have to walk the same path as our ancestors? Are we doomed to this insular and increasingly insane journey from birth to death? This is a 16 by 12 inch acrylic painting on gallery-wrapped canvas. I believe it to be rather Original Jones Art from that
increasingly insane and boring metropolis called Austin, Texas.
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