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This is a portrait of Chief Medical Officer of Health Doctor Deena Hinshaw. It’s painted over an earnest commission of the good doctor I did back in the sweet ol’ days (April 2020). Those molasses-amber hued days of early pandemic, before our lives were worth less than a pancake breakfast. Back when all we did was bake bread and splatter fear-diarrhea so furiously there was a nationwide toilet paper shortage.


But now that the sand laden winds of time have worn down the CMOH’s thin veneer of humanity to reveal another hollow eyed ghast, but with bangs, the client has asked me to update it to reflect the evolving sitcheeashun in ‘berta. I think I did a pretty damn good job.


To end things on a positive note, it might be worse here than anywhere else in Canada under a Premier who refuses to accept any responsibility, but I’ve seen hardly any scorpion-tailed warhorses with a man's face, lion's teeth, long hair, locust-like wings, golden crowns and protected with iron breastplates emerge from the smoke of the newly opened bottomless pit on earth, so everyone fuckin’ chill out. Christ. Jesus. Goddman. Hell. Piss. Ass. Poop. Taint. Fart. Blast. Habbo. Blunk. Dink. Frag. Barf. Clung. Shmee. Dwop. Woogle. Turboplonk. Bagdipple. Brump. Weemeenonwassle. Heuggh. HEuughhrf. HEUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEGUUUUHHHH.


3ftx3ft acrylic and OIL pastel on canvas


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