Me Blooming Little Shop.

I don’t usually sell my work like this.
It just piles up in drawers—
like socks with no mates,
daily drawings, digital bits,
the quiet stuff I make for me.
But there’s a lot now. Too much.
And honestly… I’m broke as.
Cost of living’s doing its thing,
rent’s knocking, loudly.
So I’m letting some go—
not a clearance aisle, not a gimmick,
just real work, at a moment I need it to be seen.
Because if this doesn’t shift, neither do I.
And if I stop—
the bigger projects stop too.
So yeah—
buy a piece, back a practice,
help this old broke artist
keep his battered skateboard rolling.