There is a mountain in Glendale, we stack signs to front and posture grief and joy

In an effort to delineate space, I live next to a mountain. It is a variable that greatly influences time and distance. I have piled and pushed paint. Dirt pushed. Like a man's man, the work becomes painting's painting. Rough and layered, romantic and emotive, real ole timey. The distance between the viewer and the paint forces any form to be speculation, it is customized to a darkness. There is a huge distrust within the image. I want to render this cast light and skew foreshadowed perceptions. Is it romance or sublimation? Is it simply abstraction made to look like an object? Black, white and grey are all i really care about in this teenage jungle. This is the location that all layers are stacked and collected. This hill in Glendale is my new space for rent.