Tuesday, 15 December 2009

The State of the Metal Address pt. 1

I apologise for the lack of new art content. I am building up a buffer of work to start posting in the new year. Until then, I hope to offer you a few articles in the style of my older attempts at blogging. Working through various issues that have been on my chest, etc. First, an issue close to my heart: HEAVY FUCKING METAL.

The New Elitism

The evolution of heavy metal can be seen easily as a Hegelian dialectic. Thesis, antithesis, synthesis. New genress and ideas are met with, and tempered by, reactionary elitist tendencies. From these emerge the synthesis. We have seen this at least twice before in the history of metal, as seen as a distinct subculture. First there was the hair metal crisis. Then there was nu metal. Now, metal is undergoing its third great crisis. This time a combination of factors are at work, not just musical but social. The effects of the digital revolution on metal culture are being worked through, at the same time as a raft of new pretender genres, most particularly post-metal and deathcore, have risen up. In response, elitism is now stronger than it has ever been.

Once again, this is a long, bloody, drawn out struggle. And once again, it is primarily a contest between Europe and America.

The Degeneracy Thesis

One thing you will notice about every widely criticised and reviled permutation of metal is this: it is american. Hair metal, nu metal, groove metal, deathcore, post-metal, sludge, thrash revival, slam death and USBM. All have been (or are being) actively reviled by one section of the metal scene or another, some universally, some more selectly.

Part of this is racism, conscious or unconscious. Whilst metal traditionalists have broadly tolerated (or actively embraced) the inclusion of such un-metal elements as folk, prog, classical and (to a certain degree) industrial and ambient music into the metal milieu, they often remain strongly opposed to any metal band attempting to inject, say, funk, reggae or hip-hop into the metal sound (this in wilful defiance of metals late 60's origins as the heaviest possible form of electric blues). Limited exceptions have been made for jazz (in the form of death metal fusion acts such as Cynic and Atheist) and the hardcore heroin blues of sludge has been making steady inroads (often to much protest) for a while now. Some of this is explicable. There are startlingly few examples of a successful rock/rap fusion of any sort, and rap metal normally manages to combine turgid, bargain basement hardcore riffing with lyrical parts that scarcely ever advance beyond embarrasing. Much of it should at least be questioned.

Beyond this though, is simply a general strand of anti-americanism that has existed in European thought for centuries. This, often nowadays unconscious, assumption is that all American cultural products are somehow weaker than European ones. It is very hard for American metal ideas to really make any headway in Europe*. This, as well as a fundamental difference in attitude among many American metalheads on the ground has led to a large degree to the ghettoisation of American metal culture, which is another reason why it often provides the boldest challenges to the metal status quo.

Fuck [Your Band Here]

Elitism and bizarre feuds are nothing new in the metal scene. Previously, however, feuds were generally geographic; the most famous (and patently stupid) ones probably being the 90's feuds between the Norwegian and Swedish black metal scenes, and the Norwegian and Finnish black metal scenes. The changing nature of the way metal is consumed has rendered these localist squabbles rather anachronistic, whilst opening wide new opportunities for every form of elitism and insularity imaginable.

First, you have to remember that not so very long ago extreme metal in particular was really underground. If you lived outside of a few particular cities on either side of the Atlantic, your opportunites for gigs were rare, and the only way to hear new bands was through mail order samplers, magazines, tape trading and friends. Labels and distros built their customer base on an almost personal, one to one basis. Cameraderie was high; almost everyone was a committed fan, and everyone was involved intrinsically in keeping the scene alive, whether it was by being in a band or writing for a zine, or just by buying records and t-shirts and telling your friends about your latest discovery.

What changed this was the internet. Old timers often moan that online record shopping and band websites have destroyed much of the mystique and allure of being a metal fan. More importantly, it made being an extreme metal fan easy. it was no longer necessary to dedicate time and effort writing to bands and labels or tracking down obscure releases. Anyone could have anything that was in print on their doorstep within the week, and the more unscrupulous, once filesharing took off, could have it on their computer at the click of a button. This, in particular, is a game changer. It is now possible, in the eyes of many, for people to harm the metal scene just by listening to the music. With no barriers in place to keep out the interested amateur, and literally tens of thousands of metal bands only a few clicks away, it is now a free for all.

A Way of Life

At this point it may be a good idea to try to explain to the average reader why these issues are important to the average metalhead. If you've never been seriously involved in a subculture it can be hard to understand the feelings one has for it. Once you go past the stage of the teenage phase, and become a dedicated follower, you have generally invested a large amount of resources, both emotional and financial, in the subculture in question. I myself have spent thousands of pounds just attending festivals, not to mention all the CDs, vinyl, t-shirts and other gear. Very nearly half my life has been soundtracked by metal. To the committed metalhead, whether something is metal or not, however ridiculous this may seem, is not just a question of semantics. It is a serious issue. Metal is very important to some people, me included, and casual fans, false metallers...yes, POSERS. have always been the biggest threat to its continued existence as a cohesive concept. This was the issue at the root of the hair metal and nu metal problems. Both were populist genres, beloved of casual fans who contributed little value to the metal scene, whilst diluting its very meaning. The threat now is that these weekenders can infiltrate essentially every part of the metal scene. Although there are very visible genres**, such as deathcore and post-metal, seemingly designed just to taunt the dyed in the wool denim and leather crowd, there has been an influx of new fans across the board. Some of them have started bands, and not all of them are welcome.


*Often they must first pass through the intermediary filter of Britain. This is not just something that is true of metal; most of the oldest European punk groups cite the influence of The Clash and The Sex Pistols and never mention the Ramones or the New York Dolls, and for a long time European hardcore owed far more to London and Leeds than it did Washington or LA.

**One of the main signs for spotting a metal genre that is worryingly out of place is wardrobe that doesn't chime with the rest of the metal milieu. Whilst recognisable (though perhaps, to the untrained eye, subtle) differences of dress according to taste and geography are part of the regular diversity of the metal scene, problem genres tend to stick out like a sore thumb. The standard metallers uniform (male and female) is jeans, trainers or boots, a band shirt (normally black) and long hair. Against this, genres such as nu metal, with its dreadlocks, parachute trousers and wallet chains, or post-metal with its earthtones, often short hair and ear plugs, stand out a mile. Hair metal, which required everyone to, where possible, dress like transexual space hookers from a bad acid trip, is a particularly egregious example.

Monday, 2 November 2009

Achewood Characters as Real People

I got pretty buzzed last night and decided to try drawing Achewood characters as real people.


This is Roast Beef and Lyle. I'm fairly happy with this one.


This is Teodor and Pat. I think Pat is on the right track, but I am not 100% sure about Teodor. Also, this serves as an announcement that I finally saved up enough dole money for a new scanner woop!

If you don't understand this post I suggest you thump yourself and then get your arse over to Achewood.com, the best comic in any medium.

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

The Technonomnicon

A few pieces from a digital series I've been working on. No comment.




I'm sorry about the lack of updates. I am a terminal sad-sack, unfortunately, and lacking in resources. I also can't find a sketchbook with about a months work in it that makes me barely even want to try and get my scanner working. a bloo bloo bloo.

More later.

Monday, 28 September 2009

Fred Basset

I am addicted to newspaper puzzles. Crosswords, Sudoku, Blankout, Word Wheels, Kenken, Navigati, Logic Grids, Codewords. I care not. I can but puzzle.

Which brings me on to a certain cartoon dog.

The one redeeming feature of the Daily Mail (apart from the way it induces blissful, nay, orgiastic fantasies of smashing Richard Littlejohn's head in with a brick) is it's quite excellent puzzle section, which includes my absolute favourite daily fix, Scrabblegrams (I used to play Scrabble at tournament level, in my wild youth). Thankfully, there is almost always a copy left lying around in my local pub, so I never actually have to buy the cursed thing. Also part of the puzzle page are the comics. The Daily Mail runs Garfield, I Don't Believe It, Odd Streak, The Strip Show and Fred Basset. All of these are almost painfully unfunny. Fred Basset, however, is in a league of its own.

To illustrate what is special about Fred Basset, let us compare it to Garfield, another dreadful comic strip with which it shares similiarities both of format and concept.



Fred Basset:


You will notice that, unfunny as it is, the Garfield strip does, in fact, contain a recognisable joke, whereas Fred Basset is simply a pictorial representation of about fifteen seconds in the life of a middle class dog. In an ideal world, it would be the perfect dadaist artwork. It probably is.

Fred Basset has been in continuous publication since 1963.

I have more experience with this dog than most. My paternal grandmother, being an elderly middle class lady who liked dogs (Fred Bassets core demographic, without a doubt) possessed an alarmingly large number of collected Fred Basset cartoons: whole books filled with literally nothing except Fred Basset. They are still in a box somewhere up in my parents spare room. They are strange, frightening things. Reading a whole book full of Fred Basset cartoons is exactly like sitting in a large, comfortable armchair, where a morbidly obese woman with no face slowly drips pentobarbitol into your eyes. If anyone were ever to managed to read every single Fred Basset cartoon in a row I have absolutely no doubt they would achieve absolute oneness with all things, becoming able to levitate and live only on air and sunlight. Unfortunately, after little more than a decades worth of exposure, horrified onlookers notice that a strange, coal black fluid has begun to seep from every orifice in the readers head, a fact of which he is unsettlingly unaware. This liquid has the consistency of warm honey, and smells faintly of phosgene and charred meat. It is in fact a by-product of the rapid necrotisation of the readers higher mammalian mind. Death or permanent catatonia are inevitable by this stage; there is no cure.

In the spirit of free enterprise. I decided to see whether I could use photoshop to improve upon any Fred Basset cartoons. Grabbing a selection at random from the internet, I set to work.

Fred Basset with Possible Daily Mail Headlines


Fred Basset with Transposed Heads

Fred Basset Takes the Game Too Far

Fred Basset Will Tear Us Apart, Again

Alright in their own way, but these were just stabs in the dark. I decided to break out of the comic strip format and go to the old visual comedy trick of combining two things that are complete opposites.


Still not quite there. I refuse to believe there is not some simple trick that can be performed on Fre Basset strips to render them more amusing.


Let me go smoke a few pipefulls of Extract of Salvia Divinorum and ruminate on this further.



g o t t o l e a v e r o o m s o t h e l e t t e r s c a n b r e a t h e




Right, now, I was going to keep going, but, unfortunately, I have just found something that I did not know existed when I started writing this post. I found this:


It is essentially, what I have just been fucking around with, only much better. The creator has struck the nail on the fucking head; the trick is to leave the art intact and re-write only Freds balloons to portray him as a psychopathic sexual deviant. That was so obvious I want to cry, though I am glad I didn't try because it would have been unintentional plagiarism.

Some of these are pretty fucking funny though, so at least I have a few hours good entertainment out of this. That said, CURSE THAT HOUND! Always one step ahead.

Scanner should be fixed soon, till then, artniks.

Monday, 21 September 2009

Finally, some stuff.

Between commission work, work work, illness, a fucked up scanner and a camera that has suddenly decided not to charge itself up, it has not been a good time for transferring stuff from paper to the computer. Gods damn, it's been nearly a month! What I've got for you today started on the computer anyway; a few abstract/text photoshop experiments I've been putting together over the last couple of days.


Digital Abstract #1


Digital Abstract #2


Flesh Field 1


Who Will Deliver Me From Myself?

Remember to click on the horizontal pictures for the whole thing!

Once I do get the ability to put stuff onto a computer again, I will have a good backlog of stuff: I've been playing round with geometry and so forth of late, and have about half-filled a moleskine notebook with interesting stuff. Unfortunately, for the moment, it's all mine.

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

A hand-painted black metal shirt


Diabolical Masquerade was an awesome project. Blackheim from Katatonia (ably assisted on many occasions by Dan Swano) making proggy black metal a la mid-period Borknagar. I'll probably paint a few more shirts over the next couple of days, it's been ages.

Wednesday, 19 August 2009

Here's how it's going to work.

It is fairly obvious I cannot keep to one update a day. The main current reason for this is the amount of commissioned work I have recieved. So, rather than try and pull something out my arse every day, I'll just post stuff whenever I finish it, so it'll probably end up as more like three or four posts a week (or it may end up being ten! who knows?).

Also, this will be the last ever post with no art content.

Monday, 17 August 2009

Day 5: All sorts of problems.

Sorry about no update yesterday, my internet was out. Whole (local) ISP had gone down for a day for some sort of maintenance. Anyway, I STILL haven't finished the thing I'm working on. Sorry. It is taking ages; also there is a lot of commission stuff (ie. stuff I get paid good money for) that I am doing atm that makes this blog hard work. Here is how far I have got with the current digital piece I am working at atm.


Obviously, it is a digital overpainting of a Vesalius illustration. It is barely even half finished and taking me ages. I am working in 300 dpi, with a mouse, to give you some perspective.

Maybe it will be finished tomorrow? Maybe it won't. Who knows. I will try and have something else for you if it's not.

Saturday, 15 August 2009

Day 3 (A little late): A Mere Preview

Sorry chaps. I've been working a lot on commission work, which I can't really post here. The thing I did want to post I was unfortunately unable to finish last night. I will hopefully finish it today. Here is a sneak preview:


Tantalising, no?

To make this post a little more worthwhile I've been digging around on my photobucket for some older stuff to show.


A nice picture of my home town I took.




And some old t-shirt designs. The middle is a ladies shirt, of course.

Thursday, 13 August 2009

Day 2: Black Ships Ate the Sky

Exactly what it says on the tin.


Pen and ink on cartridge paper.

Wednesday, 12 August 2009

Day 1 (New Calendar): Lets HIT the FUCKING road!

Okay, back in business again, and now I have a working scanner! YES!

First up, a little bit of sci-fi art.


Geologists...IN SPACE!

(or they could be space pirates burying their space treasure if you like everything to be extremely silly).

Tuesday, 4 August 2009

Sorry, people, especially you three followers.

I essentially chose the worst time ever to do this. I just moved house, then I went to Wacken Open Air Festival and now I have come back and everything is in boxes. Next Weekend I depart again for Bournemouth. Aieeeee. What I am going to do is build up a buffer of work, sort out my fractured life and then restart this shit wednesday next, and see if we can't seriously do something. If it all falls apart this bad again, well, ok, but if it doesn't, woop.

Friday, 24 July 2009

Where have I been? What have I been doing?

To cut a long story short, my dads scanner is broken. Also I have just moved back in with my parents, and have spent most of the week packing, cleaning, loading vans and unloading vans. I will resume this blog service as soon as I have some method of getting images onto this sodding computer, though I will also note that I am going to Germany on Wednesday.

Terribly sorry about all this. Basically, what I am saying is, totally mucked up the start of this blog all to hell, it will probably not be back on its feet for two weeks.

On the other hand, the job situation on the Isle of Wight at the moment is utterly appalling, so I'll probably have a lot of time this summer.

Tuesday, 14 July 2009

Day 15: Another fucking missed update, fuck and bugger it all to fuck.

Man. It's been a busy couple of days. I'm currently filing an appeal about being kicked out of art school, and I'm preparing to move house, which has meant tidying and organising my sty of a room. I would promise a double update today but unfortunately I seem to have managed to pack away my camera cable, and I ain't got an SD card, so I'm currently without any way of putting stuff onto my computer. I guess I'll have to do a bit of writing or something this evening. I have always fancied myself as kind of a writer. I am really, really good at writing the first three pages or so of books. I figure if I can just expand that talent forward I may have something. Maybe I shall polish up some of the first pages or so I have of books and post them up. Watch this space (actually the space above it once you actually need to watch it).

Sunday, 12 July 2009

Day 13: Some serial killers

I'm still watching serial killer documentaries. Todays art, two chalk and charcoal portraits of serial killers, touched up a bit in photoshop. I deliberately tried to go for a loose, courtroom artist kind of style, which might have been a bit precious of me. I'm not really happy with the likeness of either subject, but I quite like the second one just as a picture. The first one is a little overworked; I didn't want to ruin both of them completely, which is why I stopped.

First, Ted Bundy:


And now, Jeffrey Dahmer:


I've also been working on some music today, and tidying my room. And now I am tired. :3


Saturday, 11 July 2009

Day 12: Lets get this show back on the road.

Okay. Right. Lets get back in business. Lets make up for this shit.

First off, two paintings. Acrylic on canvas, based on webcam shots. I tried slightly different approaches with each of these with regards to palette and brush technique. The third I am still very unhappy with, and I've now run out of white acrylic paint (always the white) so I won't be rectifying it very soon. The photographs are both slightly crooked, but without the advantage of a gallery space to hang pictures like this in it's the best I can realistically manage.



I don't know which I like best. The first one has a more realistic feel, much more worked, but the second is looser and more vibrant; I decided to try eliminating brown from my palette, which always gives a picture a little more zazz. Both capture the distorting effects quite nicely, in my opinion.

As a bonus, here is a quick self portrait, executed in charcoal and human blood:


I get nosebleeds semi-regularly, due to the fact that I have compulsively picked my nose since I was about two, and sometimes when I get one when I'm painting I try to do something with it. Normally something stupid. The blood doesn't really mean anything, obviously. It's quite a shitty material to work with, actually, especially mixed with snot, but it does have a few advantages. I like the subtle, rusty tones you can build up, plus you get the interesting time-based thing as the blood turns more brown as it dries and ages. Smells nice as well.

Also, whilst I am providing evidence for the prosecution, I have been watching a pretty good series of youtube docs on serial killers. It's your usual suspects kind of line-up: Gein, Gacy, Dahmer, Manson, Ramirez (I always preferred more indie, underground serial killers like H.H. Holmes and Peter K├╝rten), and they're presented in the style viewers of late night Discovery Channel crime shows will be familiar with, complete with little bits of artifice like photographs of the killers where the subject has been clipped out the background and each elements moves at a different rate of zoom, like a sort of ghetto vertigo shot. Two things to note. One, returning to the Realdoll thing, I was struck by suddenly thinking how similiar the obsessions of some serial killers (Gein and Dahmer in particular) are to some of the subjects of the rather touching documentary 'Guys and Dolls' (which everyone should watch, though not all the parts are up on youtube anymore due to a surfeit of latex vaginas). Some things are obvious: one of the doll fanciers kept his mothers room the exact way it had been at the time of her death, in the same manner as Gein, whilst others expressed an inability to connect with living humans that could easily be seen as being linked to the necrophiliac urges of some killers. What I'm trying to say here is not that the kind of people who are really serious about realdolls are dangerous psychopaths, but it's an interesting correlation. Actually, it's quite a positive thing. One thing that's very obvious, when you look at serial killers, is that the truly dangerous thing is not 'deviant' sexual urges, but the suppression of sexual urges, which seem to have lead to the crimes of many of these killers. If Dahmer had been able to be open about his sexuality and meet up with subs on craigslist for a little edgeplay, would he have killed and eaten all those dudes? in my opinion, fantasy is an extremely important outlet. If the internet proves anything it is that a tremendous amount of people are perverted as all fuck, and that, actually, the expression of unusual sexualities, as long as it is, to quote the maxim of every S&M practicioner 'Safe, Sane and Consensual', is always healthy. This is one of the reasons I am so opposed to the new UK laws on 'extreme pornography' (apart from the fact that they are ludicrously widespread, effectively criminalise completely harmless people arbitrarily, and would seem to apply to quite a lot of mainstream, non-porn movies and art) is that they are completely arse-backwards. It is infinitely more dangerous for people to repress violent or unusual sexual urges than it is for them to explore them and understand them, which is the only way you can control them. Anyway, I'm rambling and not making any particular sense. Here's the youtube link to the serial killer bios playlist:


Now, I'm going to go and drink wine and listen to The Birthday Party and feel tortured as fuck.

Friday, 10 July 2009

A Stupid Musing

Okay. Here is the thing I have been considering. It is very stupid in a way. It concerns virtual worlds, and images produced from them. So we have a case in point, let's take an image from my World of Warcraft Screenshot folder:


Ok. Now the issue I've been considering is: 'Whose work is this?'. Is it the work of Blizzard, or is the work of me? Sure, Blizzard made everything in the picture; from the character to her clothes to the environment, but I controlled the Camera, and decided when to take the shot. And it's not like the average photographer taking pictures in the real world has any control over the content of his images apart from arranging and posing objects and people. Now, this question seems to have been answered somewhat with regards to moving images and sound; machinima is a thriving little industry, and I don't think games companies are exerting any ownership over that (are they? This might bear research). Arising from this query, another. Could screenshots ever be considered a valid artform? You could probably play with such an idea in an interesting way. Imagine taking screenshots from videogames, printing them out as negatives onto acetate, then blowing them up into enormous large format photographs. It also opens up other ideas. If one was to make paintings from screenshots, would that just be glorified fanart, or something else entirely? These are ideas that have been brimming up from extending my paintings based on webcam screenshots into other directions. Those are coming along to various degrees by the way. I have one finished that I am extremely happy with, but having called shenanigans it can wait for the morrow. The other two of my planned triptych have been less successful. I may transfer back to painting on cartridge paper for a bit, as I am burning through canvases at a stupid rate, and you can't really scrape acrylics. The screenshot idea also plays into a series of paintings I have been thinking about based on stills from the film 'Suspiria'.

Ideas bubbling away! Got to keep making.

Thursday, 9 July 2009

I'm calling shenanigans on this whole week.

Dreadfully sorry, three followers (hello there!).

To explain. I have recently started taking a form of medication called Citalopram. For some charming reason it makes you feel a lot shittier before it makes you feel better; it takes about two weeks to get good, I am exactly one week in. I have been working, but I have nothing in a condition I feel comfortable showing. Hopefully I should be able to make it up on Saturday with a whole damn TRIPTYCH. That's right. Three whole damn paintings. And they'll be a lot better than the last one. I may also try and do some sort of writing thing tomorrow. There's a really stupid but also kind of intriguing art philosophy poser I've been turning around in my head I might like to chuck out there.

I could have chosen a better time to start this blog. Ah well! We must accept lifes travails. Or in my case we must lie in bed being overcome by waves of nausea, weakness and despair.

Mood: D:
Music: Marilyn Manson*

*Not really.

Tuesday, 7 July 2009

Another Missed day.

Daaaamn. Anti-depressants are serious business people, serious fucking business. I'll see if I can't raid the archives again for tonight. To tide you over I offer, with absolutely no explanation whatsoever, this image:


It is a 'mash-up', if you will, of 'The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife' by Katsushika Hokusai, described by Wikipedia as the first ever piece of 'Tentacle Eroticism', and Damien Hirst's 'For The Love of God'. I had my reasons, but ye shall not know them.

Monday, 6 July 2009

Day 7: Oil Painting + List of things to do with a Realdoll

Ok the first thing I have for you today is an Oil Painting. I thought I would give oils another try as it's probably been about a year and a half since the last time I tried working in them, and I've basically remembered why I don't like them. This is a preliminary study*, perhaps, for a series I am planning based on a series of glitched screenshots of sadomasochistic cybersex sessions I have engaged in via webcam. This didn't come out quite how I planned it. It needs to be much closer to the original image, to really enhance the creepiness. Unfortunately, I ran out of white paint. Also, my mother can never find this blog.


Also, here is a list, deriving from a chatroom conversation of things that I think would be good to do with a Realdoll, if I could afford one.

List of fun things to do with a realdoll:

Sit it on your sofa wearing nothing but fishnets and a strap-on and never mention it or even look at it. See how long it took various visitors to your home to mention its malign and sordid presence.

Buy a tandem bicycle and attach the naked realdoll to the second set of pedals and seat.

Remove the realdolls head and replace with: Stuffed moose head, goldfish bowl, giant Residents eyeball, the head off a childs baby doll, a dead squid stuffed in a cheap Nixon mask, etc. etc.

Nail the realdoll to the ceiling and then invite a friend over. Talk to him normally for hours then suddenly remark "Wow! Look at that!" and point and look upwards.

Half use a roll of film for innocuous bank holiday snaps, then take a series of deliberately lo-fi art photos of you burying your real-doll in the back garden at night, with very low light. Then send the film to be developed at Boots.

Produce heartbreaking stop-motion animated shorts that make it appear that you believe the realdoll to be speaking to you in the voice of your dead mother.

Dress the realdoll as Captain Janeway from Star Trek: Voyager, stand it by your door and every time you enter the house ask "Permission to come aboard captain?"

Take it to a tattoo parlour and instruct the tattooist to tattoo my name onto its arm

Take it to a tattoo parlour and instruct the tattooist to tattoo their name onto its arm

Employ it as a hood ornament.

Install a device in the realdolls vagina for uncorking bottles of wine, insist on using it at the very few upper middle class dinner parties you will subsequently attend.

Cast the real-doll as Bela Lugosi in a remake of Plan 9 From Outer Space

saw off the tips of each of the dolls fingers and replace them with the top halves of barbie dolls.

Install a mechanism in the doll allowing it to give birth to Chucky/That thing from Riget/the Eraserhead baby/easter eggs.

Mother never read this ever.

*ie it didn't work.

Sunday, 5 July 2009

Days 6&7: Abstraction and material from my archives.

Ok, sorry about all that, imaginary readers. First up for you today (or two-day!) I have got a couple of abstract pieces:


This one is called, with startlingly originality, "untitled"*


This is a return to an older theme of mine, which involves writing out my most depraved sexual fetishes as a stream of consciousness in such a way that they are impossible to read.

And now to spice things up, some stuff from an older sketchbook (only a few months though). First, a sketch I did at Sachsenhausen concentration camp, the most bleak, despair inducing place I have ever been in my life. The inset stone was one of many placed on top of the concrete pillars that marked the remains of most of the huts. I believe Jewish people place them at graves. It somehow seemed to sum everything up better than a wider view:


and lastly, to throw a spanner in the works, an alien.


I could tell you all sorts of wonderful detail about this guys civilisation and so forth but I won't because it would bore you shitless.

*Unfortunately necessary now I have run out of Black Metal instrumentals to name my abstracts after.

Missed update

Less than a week in and I already missed an update on account of accidentally going out and getting hammered last night. Poo! I shall do a double update later tonight.

Friday, 3 July 2009

Day 5: Some Martial Industrial Music

I don't just work in visual media, unfortunately. I am also a musician and 'sound artist'*. I work mainly in the area of industrial music, which has nothing to do with Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson, and a lot to do with Throbbing Gristle, Coil, Einsturzende Neubaten, etc. My new thing today is three (3!) new demo tracks for my new Martial industrial/apocalyptic folk/dark ambient project 'Le Morte D'Arthur'. Martial Industrial is just like normal industral except people pretend to be nazis even harder. These tracks are "The Great Equaliser", "On Seeing a Piece of Our Heavy Artillery Bought Into Action" and "Black Ships Ate the Sky", which is a Current 93 cover! You lucky people. Unfortunately none of them are very good, but it is a demo, and I have little in the way of microphones. It is music best listened to as loud as you possibly can.

Listen to them here

*a name you use when you can't actually play any instruments.

Thursday, 2 July 2009

Day 4: Sluts of Hell, Slaves of Satan

Damn I really need a new camera. I just can't get any of the detail in these larger pictures, plus it's really hard to get things straight.


Here we go! 'Sluts of Hell, Slaves of Satan'. Images and text taken from the Sun Newspaper, collaged and overdrawn with black and red fineliners, chalk, charcoal and black enamel paint. Does it mean anything? Yeah, it's about like, capitalism and shit*.

Also because I am one of the good guys, here is a page from my sketchbook, trying to design some album art for my next planned album, 'Radio Crowley'.


Oh yeah, the music! Well, I'll tell you all about that some other time. Also I see on the monitors in Der Blogbunker that I have a follower. Hello follower! Watch that you do not become the followed.

*Rupert Murdoch is Satan in this reading.

Wednesday, 1 July 2009

Day 3: Dawn Over Bournemouth, From Poole (A Photographic series)

Yesterday night I cycled down to the coast and took photographs of dawn coming up over Bournemouth from just across the border into Poole. Here are the results, selected out of about 200 photos.
















What a nice trip to the beach! I even made a sand castle. Sand castles are very hard to photograph.




These are all raw, completely unedited digital photos (putting my half a photography AS to good use!). I'll probably play with them in photoshop later. A little touristy and twee I know. Don't worry! Tomorrow should see me uploading a painting/montage entitled 'Sluts of Hell, Slaves of Satan' which will push this shit all the way through NSFW and out into NSAA*

*(Not Safe At All)