Cheese

Here is my cheese. Everyone likes a nice cheese. I found him in the fridge and thought what fun it would be to paint his picture.

I did not have a plan, exactly. It was a narrative of my process. Time will tell exactly what "narrative of my process" means, in this context and in a more general way, or to anyone. The "narrative of my process" could mean something altogether to you, or me.

Because all surfaces of the space within you were used, no conceptual edges or alignments were encountered. This created an interior plinth, or as it is commonly called, thing. The effect was close to total immersion of enjoyment.

I worked on the painting of this cheese, and as I worked, the creative process was engaged and the "narrative of my process" developed deep within my body creating cities of happy. I continued to work on it until the final day, October 6, 2007. Then I painted over it again, and the project returned to its zero state of spatial continuum. It had a lifespan of 2 months in this painted over state until December 6 2007 when I reconnected with the "narrative of my process" and scraped it off again. Now it has a new life, on this website, with you.

When I look at it now I see the faces of the dead, a dying world of pain and destruction, and I weep black tears of oil and death.

But we must soldier on as ever, dear friends, enjoy!

John Prescott with pie

I love to see a man enjoying a pie, don't you? And the king of pies is undoubtedly the Jaguar loving Labour star John Prescott.

I painted this portrait shortly after his 'punching a member of the public in the face' incident. I wanted to place him in happier times, with his pies.

I spent several, long hard hours working on this portrait, but doing so filled my heart with joy and love. When I had finished though my mood completely altered to one of deep, dark despair and the painting was sentenced to spend the following years in my leaking, bleak attic. John is weeping, he has a pie, but he cries deep tears of mourning for his lost thing.

ENJOY!

Happy Cake

Look at my lovely cake. Would you like some? Would you?

I was delighted to read that new trade figures have shown further evidence for Japan's continuing export-driven recovery as exports in April jumped from 40.4% to 5.9 trillion yen ($65bn; $45bn), marking the fifth straight monthly year-on-year increase, and exports were boosted by global demand for Japanese cars and semiconductors with.

Dizzy with enjoyment I plucked a simply smashing Sarah Lee cake from my freezer, carefully arranged the sumptuous product onto a special plinth and worked hard on a new representation of this very special day. I hope you enjoy the results as much as I do, but you're not getting any of my lovely cake as I need every crumb to keep the creeping fingers of despair at bay that lurk, always, at ones shoulders.

Soldier on, as ever.

A stench of defeat, South Wales

Derelict buildings. I painted this (with love, as ever) during a visit to the Welsh valleys. I'm not going to tell you where, you'll have to guess. This is what my friend Marjorie said about this work:

I think the work goes beyond mere representation. It’s full of meaning and misery – a statement about the fact that you can never leave your dreams completely behind then. It’s also a reflection on what it means to be broken in the world today, like a broken horse. The JCB is beautiful, yet oddly disturbing in its own way. This work also carries definite political overtones about their attitude to free (especially artistic) speech on.

The ideas, technique and contextual elements are integral too, naturally, but it’s the linework and the language there in that alludes to the artists primary discourse. Tentatively floated or botched down on, the artist's resolve is narrated through the linework - with, and through the bitter alignment of leaves.

The canvas is key to this artists work now. Choosing to paint on pre-existing objects such as old curtins or broken plinths. Anything that is old and rubbery and local is also considered, but particularly objects with miserable significance are of interest to. The approach of appropriating the aesthetical elements as well as the inherent purpose of the object helps to provide a more comprehensive context in the thing. A suitable set of parameters to project an idea with.

Thank you, Marjorie.

Election special

I know we're all desperately tired with this election thing, but last night I was completely overcome with the empathy and mild repulsion I felt for poor, poor Gordon. Look at him, sad and tired and with losing.

Putting aside a quiet evening with just a glass or two with sherry, I launched into a frantic whirlwind of hard work then and captured the radiating despair etched on poor, poor Gordon. Painted as ever, with love, but with the beast of mild repulsion hovering at my shoulder at all times.

Enjoy!

Now you're talking

Now you're talking. I'm talking to you. A portrait this time, from my period of portraiture, paintings of local people, from here. Now you're talking. Are you? Am I? This man was talking to me, so I re-created him in oils and some mixed media dreams. painted with love, and a small modicum of repulsion. Now you're talking. Yes, I am.

A Little Drop of Sherry Turbot

Don't you think it is about time you left the pot and the bottle alone? It's time for tea, again, you say, and maybe, perchance, a small glass of sherry?

So, lately I've been busily studying my dreams and the sensation of my body in space. I have learned how to bring my obsession with texture and space to it's absolute highest potential and applied pure contours of energy onto the canvas, focussed with a determination that would put British Gas to shame.

I have really been drawn to these gorgeous, violent purples lately. The canvas is a sheer excitement of shape pushed against an acrylic ledge...I really like the way they turned out...I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am! You'll see more Blue sneaking into my next large series of works...fits my current mood, I guess. Enjoy! Or don't!

I used a number of different gels and mediums and also rubbings to create the local terrain of this painting. Different colors in varying amounts of pigment were then applied over the surface, like a plinth. A few quick final minimal lines and marks were applied to the painting. I went into a semi-trance like state, reaching back into the recesses of my mind, and found a lot of exciting things there. I was unconscious for hours afterwards - what fun!

The painting was time consuming, messy and encapsulated enjoyment. Most of the time the painting is not going my way though (at least in my mind), but I must continue the process in order to get the painting to its destination and align the possibilities of my vision to those of the reality of this medium. It is my duty as an artist and a human being to share my dreams with you, dear viewer, but for now the pot and the kettle are calling....can you hear...

Moroccan Sunset Celebration

Have you been to Morocco? Have you? Have you? I have been asked this many times regarding this land of paradise and rich heritage. I wanted to understand this landscape of dreams and be transported to it's world of enchantment.

Recently, the government of Morocco has suggested autonomous status for the region, through the Moroccan Royal Advisory Council for Saharan Affairs (CORCAS). The project was presented to the United Nations Security Council in mid-April 2007. The proposal was encouraged by Moroccan allies such as the USA and France, but did not gain Security Council approval, and Minurso remains formally committed to the organisation of a referendum.

This is my response and encourages a call to all parties to enter into direct and unconditional negotiations to reach a mutually accepted political solution. Mixed media on canvas.

The Broken Horses

Who will mend the broken horses? They huddle together, in storm fields of lost moments. This one has also been around for 5 years or so, but mostly in my mind. I recently revisited him with renewed energy, ending a self-imposed cycle of internal struggle and a lack of focus that has clung to my back for a whole lifetime. Then one bright spring morning, two years ago, I passed the field of broken horses and their sad but magical presence shattered my complacency and filled my body with bright, searing hope.