Bill Marsh, Landscapes, 2002
Max Ernst, Forest and Dove
Untitled, Unica Zürn, 1960s
Hybrid, Jenny Saville
Chalk Paths, Eric Ravilious, 1935
Torso, Jenny Saville
From ‘My Pictures’, in a forgotten sub-folder: some of our ten-year-old, mostly handdrawn gig/play/variety posters from the various venues we bothered around Exeter, London etc. Very sad to think that the best two of these venues are now gone.
I spent an agreeable few hours in the National Gallery this afternoon, sketching instead of job-hunting. If it was not very racist, I would rank nationalities of tourists by their propensity to stand in front of the painting that I am sketching for a very long time, before practically mushing their wattles across my page […]
My work on Black Crown has elicited a particular style of art, of which I am still sounding out the boundaries. I’ve never been known for any technical ability in art, preferring to stay close to pen and paper. No blue pencil for me, no drafts. Whilst sitting in the rain on Kinver Edge this […]
This painting was a bigger challenge for me. I had not worked with acrylics at such a large scale before; goodness, until six months ago I had not painted anything longer than my finger. The canvas is nearly two feet high and nearly a foot wide, and I think it has come out fairly striking. […]
This one did not take quite as long as the last one. The canvas is about the size of an envelope, and was a gift from my girlfriend when I gave her the Totoro painting. I have a couple of plans for my own paintings in the future, but there was another Ghibli character that […]
My girlfriend and I have a certain inner core that claps at the same bell. This is no different, I suppose, from any other couple. To say that we have a lot in common is not understatement, but certainly misleading; it is not necessarily activities that we enjoy together (she views horses with a keen […]
Sarah Ogilvie’s artwork for my short story, ‘Merry Christmas, All You Gods’.
I have just finished watching a documentary on Moebius/Gir/Jean Giraud, a man who has inexplicably escaped my attentions, despite being right up my strässe. I have yet to buy one of his books, and I feel that I understand his death as a great loss, despite only viewing his work with an outsider’s eye. I […]