I like birds. Even the ubiquitous ones, like ducks and pigeons. They’re beautiful, if you remember to look. 

I went to the park today. It started to rain so I sat on a bench under a tree with a book until a homeless man happened by. We talked for a long time. I don’t know his name, but he doesn’t like women, foreigners, the city, the cops, or the rich. He likes cheese and the Aryan race. He told me I was a passive sort of person. He’s probably right. He also told me that everything was going to be ok. 

He’s probably right about that too. 

Untitled (head study). 

Based on a found photograph. I don’t usually paint faces in detail, I’m not sure why. I don’t feel comfortable with portraits. It seems invasive. 

Oil on a textured background of acrylic paint, acrylic primer, liquid latex and probably about 5 previous failed paintings. (24"x20") 

Disconnect.

This one is about feeling detached from the world, like you’re not quite real. (Oil on cotton, 55.5" x 35.5") 

I should probably stop painting on horrible old bedsheets. But I like the texture. This one is already falling apart. My comfort is that in these uncertain times, it would be naive, even hubristic to aim for longevity. 

474. 

The idea behind this one is the secret world each and every person carries inside, like it or not, a world that no-one else will ever be a part of. The title refers to the saddest thing I have ever read, on page 474 of the 1995 paperback edition of Black Holes and Time Warps, by Kip Thorne, in which a beautiful theory about baby universes is refuted. 

Oil on cotton (approx 36" x 24")

Cove. 

A fairly rare attempt at landscape, or rather seascape. This was inspired by a trip I inadvertently took to a small coastal village somewhere in west Galway. I was feeling cranky and antisocial so I took a camera and a bottle of wine and took a ride on a bus until I got to somewhere I didn’t recognise. I highly recommend it. 

Chalks and watercolour on paper. (Approx 12" x 25")