Cheeseburger Walrus

"Cheeseburger Walrus" is a snapshot of an ordinary afternoon during a chapter of my life that revolved around survival, partying, and the routines that came with addiction. The painting depicts the living room of the house my boyfriend and I shared in downtown Colorado Springs. We had just finished our favorite lunch from T&L Market on Willamette Street, now home to Stellina Pizza Cafe. The empty cane sugar cola bottles left on the coffee table are the only evidence of the meal. On the television, Ben Stein appears in a Clear Eyes commercial, holding three oversized eyeballs. Clear Eyes was practically a staple in cannabis culture, used to hide bloodshot eyes after smoking, making the commercial another layer of the painting that reflects the culture we were immersed in.

Perched on the television stand is my cat, Granddad, quietly sitting in a beam of sunlight streaming through the curtains. Looking back, her calm presence mirrors something else about that period of my life. Although Eljay and I shared a lifestyle centered around addiction, our relationship was different from the narcissistic, controlling relationships that had come before. It wasn't healthy. We were deeply codependent, a story that continues in the companion painting, "Jail Pants". But there was an absence of the manipulation and control I had grown accustomed to. Granddad's peaceful presence feels like a quiet reflection of that difference, a reminder that while this chapter was far from healthy, it wasn't defined by the same emotional trauma that had shaped so many of the ones before it.

The bong on the coffee table often catches people's attention. Ironically, cannabis was never really my thing. It made me socially anxious, and I rarely smoked. Alcohol was my drug of choice. If I drank and smoked together, I would get far too intoxicated, so I usually avoided it altogether. Eljay enjoyed it, but for me, the bong was less about using it than selling what went through it.

Back then, my income came from more than my day job. Whatever I earned never seemed to keep up with the lifestyle I was living, so selling cannabis became a way to finance my drinking. At that point, I didn't think I had a problem. I thought I was simply living the downtown party lifestyle. I lived within walking distance of the bars, which made it easy to stumble home, and one of my closest friends from high school lived just a block away. Most nights revolved around drinking, friends, and whatever adventure came next. Looking back, I can see how much of my life was organized around alcohol, but at the time it still felt like freedom. This painting quietly reflects that reality without dramatizing it. It's simply an honest record of what my everyday life looked like.

The title comes from one of our favorite shows at the time, "Trailer Park Boys". We watched it constantly and laughed at how strangely familiar the characters felt. They were always drinking, smoking dope, and chasing one ridiculous scheme after another. Ricky's mangled expressions were legendary, and in one episode he calls Randy a Cheeseburger Walrus. The absurdity of the phrase made us laugh so hard that it became the perfect title for this painting.

"Cheeseburger Walrus" was intended to be the first half of a diptych. The second painting, "Jail Pants", was started to continue the story. Although I never completed it, I've included the unfinished work in this collection because together the two paintings capture a pivotal chapter of my life, and even in its unfinished state, "Jail Pants" has a story to tell.

Looking back, "Cheeseburger Walrus" captures more than a room or a meal. It preserves a version of my life before recovery, when addiction shaped my choices so completely that even an ordinary afternoon carried traces of the life I was living. It marks a point in my story when partying still felt like freedom and I hadn't yet recognized how much alcohol dictated my decisions. Today, I see it as both a time capsule and a reminder of how far I've come.