Prismatic amput




Portrait of liz.


A self portrait.



psychodelic navaho

Portrait of a blue face.

Portrait of a blue face.

Skull heads

Skull heads

Drawn on the back of old mail.

The garage project.

The garage project.

I’ve lived in the same house for eight years and in the far left corner at the end of the driveway is a brick, corrugated iron and redwood garage. I have always had the idea in the back and sometimes front of my mind to turn it into an art studio but over the years it was always more like a dumping ground for all the countless housemates who have lived or drifted through the house over the years even before I lived in it. A pile of bikes, boxes, books, paintings, old clothes, fishing rods, bamboo poles, home brew, screen doors, electrical goods, gym equipment and general miscellaneous shit. It has anything and everything you could possibly need to make a great studio. The majority of what consumes the garages space is arts materials. Brushes, canvases, paint and an easel.
I think the reasons I’ve been reluctant in the past to do this is that I live in shared housing and have always felt a little bit foot to mouth. Not quite at home and not quit settled. Eight years is along time to live in the same house and not feel like you own it. In the past we’ve had up to five people living in the house with four more staying in the house regularly. Matt, Will, Ash, Widow, Pim, Dean, Claire, Erin, Zalie, Jack and about five others who’s names fail me have all lived in the house. At the moment there are three people living in the house and it feels easier to own the space. People pay good money to have their own studio and yet this garage is sitting there. This will be about the deconstruction of space. I’m starting this at the start of August. I need enough time to go through everything then reconstruct it and I’m looking to do it in a month but ill take as long as I need to finish it. This is my project but if people are around ill rope then into helping or if they want to be involved. First ill need lighting, heating, carpet, clean it, clear it out and throw away what’s unneeded while trying to make use of everything that’s in there.

Cognitive response.

A sketch I keep working on when I’m drunk.

Asleep on the train.

Asleep on the train.

I was on the train the other day going into the city to meet my mother who was coming down from the country for the day. Sitting directly across from me was a teenage girl sleeping in her chair and waking up only when the train stopped at stations. I’d brought my sketch book with me and I was keen to draw and started drawing her almost as soon as I sat down. There is something quite cathartic about drawing someone while they’re asleep. I don’t think it’s illegal to draw people while they’re asleep in public, I don’t know. I should look into that.

Father Son Holy Gore

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Words on a blackboard

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