Hell

When time is done, and we are left with the cess of life
the apricot skin peels and appals me
and wonders cease to amaze
is the dawn a day reborn or just a crack in an old past

fortune standing before a dreamlike figure

I shake, broken down and faint with torment
a shadow of myself, no glimmer in an eye
a face purged and bloodless
the clock ticking with complexion
numbers round and swollen as the hands stray lost on a dial
black now the pupils
nothing in the view
the cat purrs and my hands are sombre now
is that you, I say it quickly
we are in hell

its true

My work is bizarre to you maybe and to everyone else also maybe.. its partly about what is called today in this perfect world of absolute chaos.. madness . it is my interest in a psychological term that dominates society that attempts making a state of mind the norm ..uniformity .that seed of self destruction ... the world is under pressure to pay rent to leeches ..so many fail along that road and madness is often part of the mind that cannot cope .. in art its easy to see but hard to define,. My mother had brain cancer and it was so heartbreaking to hear what she was thinking, in painting most people dont show what they think, they interpret what they see, as in life drawing etc .. I am trying to change that. Art is the mind to me and madness is not a solid state it deviates and is emotional and its interesting to me. What interests you is a bank of images you store and when you look at someone's work and check if it fits in with previous images of your taste, you deselect what doesnt fit .,  you discard them as no good, but having an open mind is what makes a good artist, a closed mind is a copyist and followers are of little use, apart from support financially..

I once dug holes for telegraph poles to be erected  , they took an hour to dig a 6ft hole, these paintings take 15 minutes each, no one appreciates them or the holes I dug.. I at least got paid for them . Art is for sale as an investment  product, not as art 

I have come to the conclusion that the general public do not know anything about my paintings . They know about the history of art ..It appears to me that all paintings are judged on other painter's work ...If we dont adhere to their prescribed methods we are marked down .. I am aware that my paintings are unlike what is usual in painting, but they are my experiences in life, and they cannot match other people's painting subjects and I no longer want to study art technique ..

 

Psychology is an odd disorder of the human race, used to distinguish what they call moral weakness, they attempt a sense of reason as a protective field about themselves ..usually in the hands of the so called intelligent, those that assume more control due to a memory span larger than another,  just a measure thought over others, as a chess player does or a sportsman ..its a mask of no reality in life , just words and deeds done to lock out someone they dont like . It reconciles the weak and dismisses the competition... its a quest for unification,  for control,  using  the strong to act for them in their lack of power... we live we die, nothing else is of any significance ..psychology simply serves as pain relief.