• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Further experimentation with materials and processes trying to increase the revelatory nature of the work by decreasing my direct hand. In some I started using carbon grated into olive oil, placed another piece of paper on top and scraped with a Stanley blade, then peeled away the paper creating marvelous effects. Here some are rather like Rorschachs ink blots but with the mirror image removed. In others I worked directly on the homemade oil paint with the blade making a square moon reflecting on black hills of the unconscious realm: The Underworld.

made a frame from tape and filled with carbon and spray fix then pounded the paper with the tips of compressed charcoal crayons filling the area with positive and negative shapes. The black mark-shapes relate to eachother and the white space-shapes connect to eachother. The temptation to use them as a game, a maze or a narrative, is left to the viewer.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

paper left over from previous drawing looked like a torso. Grated coarse carbon on it and spray fixed many times then cut with razor and drew on details.

• 

spending way too much time on my phone looking like this

• 

• 

• 

• 

More Covid introspection. Here using a pad of layout paper and graphic ink pens I found in my uncle’s flat to draw myself from memory and overlay them with some self-portraits I did in the dark. In those I had a beard. In the later ones, not.

I started as usual by eyeing up bits of leftover tape. At first I saw two leviathans but combined them to make a kind of wishbone that looked like legs. Thus was Stickman born. A beautiful, fragile being with no soul other than that fragment of mine which I chose to give him. I made a film of me trying to get him to stand.

Its about how we anthropomorphise matter, are able to somehow pity it and how this is reflected in creation myth.

But it’s also about The Shadow, that we disregard but which is always there. as real, if not more real, than the object that receives all the light.

And about how I am using and reusing materials as the equivalent of the work itself.

Tapeman dies.

Tapeman is reborn – ever-living, ever-dying

Attempted to draw myself in total darkness

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

scraps of salvaged tape appear to me as strange creatures from the deep dark watery chasms of my unconscious that feed off the fragments of my material experience that drift into their realm.

This one came about after a mirror I brought from my fathers house was blown by windy weather onto the floor breaking the frame. I put it in the basement with all the other stuff that i intend to fix one day.

Hence the weird perspectives.