Silo

So the year that was January has come and gone then, and whilst the US moved one goosestep closer to what Orwell portended as a vision of the future, here on planet Mercury, we were making a fresh start. Laying down roots. Buying the farm or at least a two up two down.

Folly perhaps, given a time when one should seriously be considering migrating to a cave on Easter island. 

Still, this is me, knuckling down in the new studio space, which I've taken to nicknaming the "Silo", since it's comprised of a couple of old shipping containers, just a stones throw away from where I sleep.

The mornings are bone cold, and I daresay come the summer months, I shall feel like a boiled frog, so whilst there's future plans to refurbish, in it's raw state, it's fitting domain for a series set in Hell.

Bon Vayage.

Necromancers shroud

“11” x 14″ | Ballpoint pen on paper.

This one grew out of an autonomous drawing session using simple biro’s bought from Target. Looking at it, I suppose it could be a kind of homage to my tenth wedding anniversary which was this week. Why would anyone I wonder, want to hitch their wagon to an artist-after all, it’s a path often paved with obsessive madness and ever impending penury? Perhaps because as Dante remarked  “They yearn for what they fear for.”

There’s some of Dante or at least Dore in this one-a sort of Inferno plate from an alternative universe, except with death and the maiden ascending from turbulent alleyways filled with malformed mutants.

Nothing like being married to an artist at all.