i-Test
Every piece of Art is a Rorschach test of one sort or another.
We look through our own eyes, clouded by our own thoughts, misted with our own memories and fogged by our own prejudices.
You do not see what I see, nor I you… nor should we.
This is what makes art special, this is not maths, there are no incorrect answers here sir/madam.
110 x 29.1cm
Every piece of Art is a Rorschach test of one sort or another.
We look through our own eyes, clouded by our own thoughts, misted with our own memories and fogged by our own prejudices.
You do not see what I see, nor I you… nor should we.
This is what makes art special, this is not maths, there are no incorrect answers here sir/madam.
110 x 29.1cm
Zen Diagram
One Hand Clapping. Height 17cm Base 48 x 32cm High Tea
Here lies the dread of the pointlessness of consumption as a means to exist in a cycle where nothing is gained and nothing is lost. We eat and we are eaten… when our time comes. And forever on, we are torn apart and scattered to the wind, to fly with it, till we become a part of it…again. To be breathed and subsumed and made flesh again. This system is closed dear. There aint no getting off this train. For creatures such as ourselves that are heavy built on vanity and self-preservation the knowledge of our own cyclic futility can be as destructive as it could be constructive. It can cast us down to darkened depths where light is only glimpsed pinpoint-like through shattered thoughts and half browned leaves of autumn, much as we are all half browned too and ready to drop too. Base 30 x 21cm Height 53cm |
I No Longer Remember Where You Start and I Finish
Height 20cm Board 29 x 20cm 
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The Body Is The Spirit Is
A commissioned piece telling a more positive story of the cyclic nature of nature, this is another tale of reincarnation and rebirth, an ode to Everythingness and cycles. A chiseled, odd, Yin Yang, where the golden sap runs through the crisp bark shell and where the brittle bark skin runs through the syrupy resin and where the dry covering runs through the slick inner fluid and where the…ad infinitum. This is, I am, We are, forever connected and cyclical. There is no duality here, there just is…is. Diameter 26cm Height 19cm 
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Looks Like Rain Again
19.7 x 25.6cm Tongue Tip Tickle
19 x 35.5cm Memento Mori
Remember Death. Once I remembered that I should remember to remember her. ‘She is the only real truth worth dwelling on’, tocked the tick. 24.5 x 18 cm
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Ode 6
One of an ongoing series of ‘Odes’ to Art and Artists that have shaped me. From specific artists that have inspired me, motivated me or galvanized my will toward my own path, to genres and time periods that are constant and enduring in their beauty. These are poems and conversations to but a few of my influences. 60 x 26cm |
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Padding
An Ode to madness. My madness and the madness of it all. This is my ode to other realities, other ways to see and to be seen. This is an ode to people who have stepped beyond, who crossed over and who have touched the face of God and who have winked slyly at the Devil, now finding it hard to find the road back home. It's good to remember. If only to know which roads not to walk down again. 36x19cm |
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Double Take
An ode to sensuality, a hallucination that draws the eye to return, furtively, boyishly back toward the parts that interest us. There is nothing to shy away from here, we are all but bees fore written to hunt for flowers, we are all but April rabbits quick to dive coupled to warm covered burrows and we are all but zephyrs waiting to wrap around our well-chosen mountain tops. 47.3 x 45cm |
Ode 2
One of an ongoing series of ‘Odes’ to Art and Artists that have shaped me. From specific artists that have inspired me, motivated me or galvanized my will toward my own path, to genres and time periods that are constant and enduring in their beauty. These are poems and conversations to but a few of my influences. 29.5 x 37cm |
Change?
Oak Carving 29x 14cm Two pieces produced to support homelessness causes.
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Home Wet Home
Concrete & Cross-stitch 37 x 60cm |
Change Pools like Butterfly Tears
As though moths to the sun.
A song to change, to rebirth and progression, ever forward, toward we know not where, a different variant of us and ours, awaits our soft cat prowl just round that next…next alleyway as we lope and sly toward everchange.
59 x 33cm
As though moths to the sun.
A song to change, to rebirth and progression, ever forward, toward we know not where, a different variant of us and ours, awaits our soft cat prowl just round that next…next alleyway as we lope and sly toward everchange.
59 x 33cm
Be careful about answer finding…
we were not born to be whole and unquestioned. We were not built to be complete nor found nor right nor perfect.
This is a continuum, where lessons follow lessons. So careful of that top step of that ladder, it is very easy to step off, only to begin again, and again. And the steps down there aint so easy to climb.
we were not born to be whole and unquestioned. We were not built to be complete nor found nor right nor perfect.
This is a continuum, where lessons follow lessons. So careful of that top step of that ladder, it is very easy to step off, only to begin again, and again. And the steps down there aint so easy to climb.
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Jacob's Ladder
Base 32 x 17cm 
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Jacob's Ladder 2
Height 40cm 
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Seaview
This is a mood, a strange, warm, ennui that breaks into a heart-smile. It’s the discovery of a wind tattered paint peeled Swiss-cheesed hull of a broken beached bijou boat, found on secret loved ones walks. This is not melancholy; this is Lemoncholy, one of but many of our beautiful, strange, indecisive, complex emotions that leave us befuddled with the intricacies of this life. 60 x 84cm |
A Very odd place indeed
30.5 x 20.75cm |
