The Owls are not what they seem.

“I discovered that if one looks a little closer at this beautiful world, there are always red ants underneath.”

David Lynch

9″ x 12″-Oil on Canvas

There are few moments I can recall, that are as predominantly strange in the collective,cultural zeitgeist, as Twin Peaks was back when it aired in 1990. Certainly, for at least the first season-one could sense that the Lynch/Frost amalgam, had unraveled the seams of sinister architecture. Given the insidious hive mind of mainstream television, it’s unfathomable that it was allowed to air beyond the third episode, but there it is, a shining beacon that reverberates it’s influence through things like The Killing, Hannibal and True Detective.

“The Owls are not what they seem”- the ominous portent by giant Carel Struyken-is my little homage in celebration of the news that a new season is in production.

It’s also timely as Comicon is upon us again and you can view it in person from my studio, concurrently during the forthcoming Marvel/DC show at La Bodega on July 11th

The buzz-David Gough at the Hive gallery, LA

After negotiating traffic in the wrong direction up a one way street in downtown LA, and a delicious bite to eat at the Hop Woo BBQ Rest (I'm serious-the shrimp was exquisite) we arrived at what was a considerably extensive collection at the Hive. And what remarkable company to be amongst, consisting of such an eclectic mix of the pop surreal vanguard.
I met a lot of new admirers,made lots of new friends, and was inspired by some fabulous art-a great night all told, well worth the two hour journey home in the early hours. My only regret is that I'd have liked to have taken more pics, such was the evening that we were so engrossed in chat, there never seemed the opportune moment to play the perennial tourist, but the smattering below gives you a snapshot.
My serious arty farty face, and then doing my best David Brent (Ricky Gervais) below:

Lots of people all night, and a wander through the catacombs-Oh that's why its called the Hive-I geddit.


A steal at eight bucks admission, there's a concession charge for anyone wearing black and yellow. Note the adorable little ankle biter dressed as a bumble bee below-the natural star of the show.

Some beautiful young ladies stare on admiringly-I knew there was a reason I loved being an artist.

One of the wonderful things about group shows, is the immediate camaraderie one feels, from meeting artists you admire. Such an artist is the exceptionally talented Christopher Ulrich, whose intricately detailed work I am told, was conducted in little than a month. Coming on like some kind of occult Magus with considerable flourish from some dark 16th century cavern in remote Tibet, his vision was profound in its multi layers, concept and foundation. I look forward very much to getting aquainted with him and his work more.
Another darling artist, I had the chance to become aqainted with, was one Amy Bernays -a superlative expressionist whose golden landscapes are spliced with urban sprawl. Like myself, she's also a British ex pat, and it was lovely swapping home grown bonheme with her. Thank you Amy

Special thanks to curator-Nathan Cartwright, Sensei, Lance, Margot, Ty, all the other artists, and everyone who attended that night.