Eighteen hundred pounds is the average weight of a rodeo bull. Here it is the weight of everything else.
Head down, shoulders gone, hat in his hand, saddle and rope over the other shoulder. He walks out through the dust and straight through the words POST RODEO, laid across the bottom of the sheet in red like a title card he cannot get around.
Upside-down horseshoes scatter the surface with the luck running out of all of them. One sits directly over his heart. Off to the right, in pencil, hard luck.
Written up in the corner is a line from the same Tom Waits song that gives No. 002 its name. It is about a good man who made a mistake, or a man who keeps trying to do right and cannot quite land it. Both of those fit the one walking out of this picture.
58 × 42 in · Latex, acrylic, charcoal, bleach and coffee on paper · 2026
Eighteen hundred pounds is the average weight of a rodeo bull. Here it is the weight of everything else.
Head down, shoulders gone, hat in his hand, saddle and rope over the other shoulder. He walks out through the dust and straight through the words POST RODEO, laid across the bottom of the sheet in red like a title card he cannot get around.
Upside-down horseshoes scatter the surface with the luck running out of all of them. One sits directly over his heart. Off to the right, in pencil, hard luck.
Written up in the corner is a line from the same Tom Waits song that gives No. 002 its name. It is about a good man who made a mistake, or a man who keeps trying to do right and cannot quite land it. Both of those fit the one walking out of this picture.
58 × 42 in · Latex, acrylic, charcoal, bleach and coffee on paper · 2026
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