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What happens when you elongate scenarios, severed limbs, or autobiographical narratives? Perhaps you discover fecund ground for future works. Richard Colman lives in a mellifluously ambiguous realm of rainbow-emesis induced lions, sharp dressed coxcombs and incongruent candelabras. He just finished his first book of drawings/paintings and opened a show of new work at Merry Karnowsky Gallery in the scintillating city of Los Angeles. Even better, he’s supposed to have a show later this year at Art Prostitute.

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