Volcano Theatre, Swansea 2019

---

Useless Logic

In a world where we are responsible for, yet not accountable for, where we are causing, yet not producing, where we are connected, yet not linked, where we are the instigators, yet not the antagonists, we are let down by our greatest gifts.
Reason, self-awareness and logic are snakes that will eat themselves whole, leaving the Sunday best roast to rot. This is not a logical world in which we live, wake up and smell the F-sharp major. Why use useless logic, it is past its sell-by, it is time to use our broken, irrational little hearts.

Height 30cm
Base 52 x27cm

The Wave Picture

We are connected you, the sea and me.
We are in control of these wet mountains even as we are thrown asunder without authority between them.
As the moon draws water it draws us too, yet we can pull back, and water will follow.
These foamy hillocks are meadows whose grass we cut before we scamper and frolic and pad across their patchwork prairies.
I say ‘Dive’ ...and in we dove.

71.5 x 23.5cm

Mask

Sometimes our faces begin to fit masks that we forgot long ago that we made ourselves to wear.
Through input we shift and squirm and change and wriggle beneath what we believe to be ‘Me’.
We are layers upon layers upon layers of new skins, crisp and ready to be plucked out, brushed down, pulled on and worn at the appropriate time.
Man, Son, Lover, Friend, Stranger, Pupil, we are but an ever changing interaction to outer-ness.
The only real question is what happens when we are alone, quiet and open to one’s self.
Are we but masks then… from ourselves?

31 x 20 cm

House on the Hill

This is but a place I run to.
A place of candy-flossed, kitten-clad calm.
This is an island, a childish, playful place where the spark of innocence (still within me) pokes his new brow to the sun and bathes, lazy, in what really matters… silliness and divine childlike nakedness.

Height 40cm
Base 17 x24cm

Chess is as ripe and as sweet and as ready to pluck for a metaphor as any good-god-damn-thing could ever be.
It is the story of humanity (at least up until this point) in a nutshell. It is about dualism, and difference, it's about hierarchy and progression, it is about movement, fighting, tactics, defeat, success, belief, deceit and death... and everything in between. 
So I ran with it. Let them speak for themselves.

The higher they are, the further to fall.

Pawn Height 4cm
Board 36cm High x 7.5cm Wide

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Pawn Height 6cm
Board 11 x 11cm

Really, Whats the point?

Rook Heights 6.5cm
Board 48 x 7.5cm

If you must, at least have a little respect.

King Heights 7cm
Board 48 x 7.5cm

High Hopes

Pawnking Height 5cm
Board 48 x 7.5cm

War Games

Castle Height 7cm
Board 24 x 7cm

Mother and Child

Queen Height 9.5cm
Board 13 x 7cm

The Limitations of Language

In a world pastel paisley-ed pink and pretty, I am left wordless with its beauty and sorrow.
There are no words to express here.
These words are but shorthand, a shortcut and an abstraction for convenience sake, that leaves out more than ever it could tell, every time… we will evolve to more I assure you. One day we will look to one anothers eyes and ‘understand’ and our lips will only be for kisses and secret nibbles.
Let us gently evolve.

76 x 55cm

Blackbirds

Oh how you blackbirds haunt me.
Are you the darkness lifting from my soul, to fly outward away from me, absenting yourself to leave the light things left?
Or do you clatter and claw toward me, bringing death and memories of death and deaths cold fingers to wake me from my past death?
All I know is that you keep flying and each day I move toward the end and the understanding of you, my cold, beautiful, dark, swift, fragile friend foes.

21 x 14.8cm

Ouroboros

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.

Height 19cm
Base 31 x21cm

Beehive

This is but one in a series of places I run to.
A place of candy-flossed, kitten-clad calm, a hideout and a fort made from blankets lit by the wonder of the new-ness of everything.
 A dream-palace where patterned skylines draw down and scoop what is real from me to become a part of ‘more real realms’ beyond… what we think we see. This is an island of calm, a childish, playful place where the spark of innocence (still within me) pokes his new brow to the sun and bathes, lazy, in what really matters… silliness and divine childlike nakedness.

Height 39cm
Base 28 x20cm

It Calls Me.

The moon draws like piped old men, suckling on moisture within,
calling me to patterned pastures, away from myself.
The hairs are standing now upon my body,
my dimensions have grown,
I am a child of the animal night.
Searching with dim blue moonlit light,
for a place and a body I have seen before.
Once.
And it calls me.
And I have no choice.

26 x 52cm

Please Do Not Be Cross

A police line for us all. We the lost, fragile, innocent, foolish, naughty, motherless children whose mistakes have always been born from love.
We are all but children feeling our way through lessons toward other lessons, so please do not be cross, as I, we, you make just another mistake… forwardly.
Let the lines be drawn with flowers and let us be beaten and admonished with candy canes, because forgive us. We know not what we do.

59 x 18cm

Lighthouse

Height 18cm  Base 37 x 29cm

I'm building a home in my head (and I'm starting with the wallpaper.)
Height 29cm

These are but places I run to.
A place of candy-flossed, kitten-clad calm.
This is an island, a childish, playful place where the spark of innocence (still within me) pokes his new brow to the sun and bathes, lazy, in what really matters… silliness and divine childlike nakedness.

Upstream

We fight against the stream, longing for home, powered by body held muscle memories toward our true source, our pre-birth place, in search of this home (not a place),
but a memory from before we can remember. It's simple though, we shall all make it back, all we have to do is wait, she finds us all in the end.

179 x 59cm