Just because you did it quick doesn’t mean it’s any good.
Oil, Ready to hang
76.2cm (W) x 76.2cm (H) x 3.8cm (D)
in 2020 I began a series of work to be exhibited in Collective Haunt in 2021. This series was called “My Bedroom”. A series of self portraits with various lights and colours abstracting my face and body. Included is an excerpt from the show.
“They’re about the space between where we sleep and where dreams begin. A manifestation of the red hot fever dream that is just existing. There is no lingering narrative for the viewer to break down or absorb in these works just a sweltering canopy of movement and colour which is where we’re dropped off to wonder. There is so much vigour and veracity in shallow ponds, if you went outside you’d be surprised to find there’s just as much life and joy below your nose than the whole world can provide. In a room no bigger than a few metres squared, wonderful things can reside, if we take them to be just as mystified. These paintings are when your eyes meet your own in the reflection in a passing bus as you stand by the lights. Driving past the home you grew up in but barely having a second to remember anything. In sunlight, it’s only the surface of the river that shimmers, I want to see that, albeit my room is a bit dimmer. “
This painting’s name is a poem I wrote and exhibited beside the piece.
“Just because you did it quick doesn’t mean it’s any good. Just because it took you a long time doesn’t mean it took any cultivated skill. I don’t know what to do I’m always quite confused. There’s always something more to be desired and it’s moving through states of quiet yearning. The load will get lighter if you lighten up internally. I put my cigarette out under my foot whilst propped up against my boot. This guy requested we meet at midnight in a car park to buy a painting of my ass.
I always intended to hoodwink and bamboozle my way into an art career. Spelling mistakes and all. So why am I surprised that It all feels
like a drug deal.”
Oil, Ready to hang
76.2cm (W) x 76.2cm (H) x 3.8cm (D)
in 2020 I began a series of work to be exhibited in Collective Haunt in 2021. This series was called “My Bedroom”. A series of self portraits with various lights and colours abstracting my face and body. Included is an excerpt from the show.
“They’re about the space between where we sleep and where dreams begin. A manifestation of the red hot fever dream that is just existing. There is no lingering narrative for the viewer to break down or absorb in these works just a sweltering canopy of movement and colour which is where we’re dropped off to wonder. There is so much vigour and veracity in shallow ponds, if you went outside you’d be surprised to find there’s just as much life and joy below your nose than the whole world can provide. In a room no bigger than a few metres squared, wonderful things can reside, if we take them to be just as mystified. These paintings are when your eyes meet your own in the reflection in a passing bus as you stand by the lights. Driving past the home you grew up in but barely having a second to remember anything. In sunlight, it’s only the surface of the river that shimmers, I want to see that, albeit my room is a bit dimmer. “
This painting’s name is a poem I wrote and exhibited beside the piece.
“Just because you did it quick doesn’t mean it’s any good. Just because it took you a long time doesn’t mean it took any cultivated skill. I don’t know what to do I’m always quite confused. There’s always something more to be desired and it’s moving through states of quiet yearning. The load will get lighter if you lighten up internally. I put my cigarette out under my foot whilst propped up against my boot. This guy requested we meet at midnight in a car park to buy a painting of my ass.
I always intended to hoodwink and bamboozle my way into an art career. Spelling mistakes and all. So why am I surprised that It all feels
like a drug deal.”
Oil, Ready to hang
76.2cm (W) x 76.2cm (H) x 3.8cm (D)
in 2020 I began a series of work to be exhibited in Collective Haunt in 2021. This series was called “My Bedroom”. A series of self portraits with various lights and colours abstracting my face and body. Included is an excerpt from the show.
“They’re about the space between where we sleep and where dreams begin. A manifestation of the red hot fever dream that is just existing. There is no lingering narrative for the viewer to break down or absorb in these works just a sweltering canopy of movement and colour which is where we’re dropped off to wonder. There is so much vigour and veracity in shallow ponds, if you went outside you’d be surprised to find there’s just as much life and joy below your nose than the whole world can provide. In a room no bigger than a few metres squared, wonderful things can reside, if we take them to be just as mystified. These paintings are when your eyes meet your own in the reflection in a passing bus as you stand by the lights. Driving past the home you grew up in but barely having a second to remember anything. In sunlight, it’s only the surface of the river that shimmers, I want to see that, albeit my room is a bit dimmer. “
This painting’s name is a poem I wrote and exhibited beside the piece.
“Just because you did it quick doesn’t mean it’s any good. Just because it took you a long time doesn’t mean it took any cultivated skill. I don’t know what to do I’m always quite confused. There’s always something more to be desired and it’s moving through states of quiet yearning. The load will get lighter if you lighten up internally. I put my cigarette out under my foot whilst propped up against my boot. This guy requested we meet at midnight in a car park to buy a painting of my ass.
I always intended to hoodwink and bamboozle my way into an art career. Spelling mistakes and all. So why am I surprised that It all feels
like a drug deal.”