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")

Tourist

This one is about time and fate and the feeling of detachment that comes with relinquishing control. Mixed media on wood – oils, pencils, pastels, emulsion, latex and print. (Approx 36"x24")

To get in to slightly more detail, the idea behind this one was to try and capture that strange feeling you get every so often when things just seem to be playing out according to a long-written script and there’s nothing much to do but watch it all unfold. 

There’s some clumsy symbolism in this piece. The lines represent the axes of a geometric projection or mathematical diagram, in reference to the notion that time is a dimension akin to the three spatial dimensions. (The title was originally going to be Tourist in the Fourth Dimension.) The jigsaw pieces at the bottom are an allusion to the idea of one’s future being mapped – of destiny being laid at one’s feet. The musical notation in the upper right corner is supposed to be a metaphor for the idea of events playing out according to a predetermined order. It’s a bit awkward and not very subtle, but there it is.

The reason the eyes are blank and pupil-less is to strip the figure of an identity and underline the notion that this is universal condition. I have no idea why he’s wearing only shorts and sitting on thin air. And I’m not entirely satisfied with the face, still unfinished in this photo, which is nonetheless the best picture I have because I forgot to take a better one before selling. Oh well. The fates decreed it. 

Vis Insita. 

“The vis insita, or innate force of matter is a power of resisting, by which every body, as much as in it lies, endeavors to preserve in its present state…”

–  Sir Isaac Newton,  Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica.

This one’s quite personal and one of my favourite, even if there are all kinds of niggling flaws. Obviously the skin tones and strange jigsaw musculature of the figure are my invention. My model’s a little thin, but he’s not the luminescent leper with a distended torso you see here hanging around looking sulky in a badly painted corridor. 

Without getting into too much depth, this one’s about being on the cusp of a decision about whether or not you’re going to try and be a better person, and knowing the answer is “probably not.”

Oil on cotton. (Approx 48"x24")