Saturday, May 30, 2009

Questions

Making art is very difficult.
Mainly because so much of it has been made.
When I make art I think about a lot of things.
What do I have a connection with?
This question often focuses on materials, my thoughts on contemporary culture and also art history, all at the same time.
What do I want to make?
Why do I want to make anything at all?
Whats the point?
How will other people interpret it?
How much control should I have over how this thing that is produced?
What is the value of skill, intent?
How valuable is concept, free from materials?
Why do I think that concept and the material I use should be congruous?
I proceed through this miasma by following my gut.
Listening to my rational thoughts (I love the innate duality in thinking).
Following my gut.
Rinse and repeat.
I have more questions and thoughts, buried, they will surface.
In time.
I have faith.
Those of you who know me will find that last line funny.

Ashwood

I smell like ash.
I don't smoke.
That is it.
No point in trying to extrapolate a metaphor.
Carbon.
I mean it like it is,
like it sounds.
It is like I mean it.
I is like I am.
I am what I mean.

Statement 30/05/09

This body of work is not designed to be clever, in an overly aware, anxious, post-modern sense; or overly instinctual, say like a lyrical, gestural painter or an abstract-expressionist. My art is an attempt to make something that feels correct both in my mind and my body, that uses both my intellect and my instinct.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Perfect from now on @ Evan Hughes Gallery



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL

Perfect from now on @ Evan Hughes Gallery



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL

Perfect from now on @ Evan Hughes Gallery



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL



NO TO FREEDOM YES TO CONTROL

Perfect from now on @ Evan Hughes Gallery



I CAN AND I CANNOT III & II



PERFECT FROM NOW ON & I CAN I CANNOT I

Perfect from now on @ Evan Hughes Gallery



INSTALLATION VIEW



PERFECT FROM NOW ON



I CAN AND I CANNOT II



I CAN AND I CANNOT I



PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG FRANCIS BACON WANNABE /30YEAR OLD FULLY RAD ART KNOB GUY TO THE POWER OF SICK SUFFERING ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Me and me and me and me

No more stories of stupid beauty
Talk of beauty should be grounded in something other
than murky nostalgia and yearning.
Challenge yourself and try to speak clearly.
Find beauty in clarity.
You'll probably tell me that this is all subjective.
You are right but you can go fuck yourself too.
Subjectivity is a truth but we can work to reduce it.
It is a lazy and slovenly mind that
bends and gets off on nothing other than indulgent subjectivity.
Steak for dinner again.
Peas, carrots and your head,
neck deep in a bucket of sand.

not very nice

do not feed me lies.
do not feed me hypnosis.
do not feed me illusion.
feed me large chunks of excrement.
feed me shit.
i'll eat it and then i want you to eat it too.
i want to vomit and choke and vomit.
blinded by half digested animal and vegetable
we will clean off together and pick through
the grott on our bodies, at our feet.
this is is where we will find the answers i need.
i hope you are willing to help
i want you to help
i want your help
you have helped.
thank you for your help.

Meld

I want to sit atop a cooling body.
My guts full of memory.
Thoughts, spittle and sinew pooling.
With the satisfaction that peace can come from violence.

Home

On the way home from Redcliffe this morning I had a day dream.
The road in front of me was bordered by brown grass and in front of me was a single hill.
As I turned the corner to go around the hill all the traffic disappeared and the road stretched itself out for a thousand kilometers.
On this road there is no destination.
No place to stop.
Just a road to drive on.
At that point I could see the peace and the emptiness that waited for me.
Clarity, sedation.
Running away.
It's all I can think about at the moment.
Leaving behind all the uncertainty, all of the risk,
everything that would bring me pain and happiness.
A quiet road.
Me and the car.
A thousand kilometers to clear my head.
But I've never been one for easy.
So my little day dream can go fuck itself.
I will forge and grow all the things I want.
Fuck you day dream, fuck you.

This is no time for indulging in weakness.

Friday, May 15, 2009

3:38am

I can't sleep.
This came with quite a bit anxiety earlier but I
actually feel OK at the moment.
I'm lucky, my computer seems to be working again
so I have some old TV shows to keep me company.
Warm milo is here too.
Made on milk.
I'm really anxious about this show in Sydney,
and other things too.
Now that all the work is done I'm not really sure what to do?
Run. I should run.
Exercise.
Weights.
Ride your bike.
The doctor suggests I get some rest.
He is right.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

fuckwit

just junk
a little effort
and goals that fall
just short of getting it right

lots of running through houses and over rooves

oiled bolt
shit through the nose
dead in a suit

dogletfartingtexacopoohasdenseasthedyingsun

Givesomeoneapieceofro
peandseehowlongittak
esbeforetheyhangthe
mselvesofcoursethemostcon
venientplaceforabinisi
nthecornerwhereitsha
rdtogetatidontwanttoloo
kattheworldasabinaryma
pbutsometimesitjustse
emstoworkthatway

Saturday, May 2, 2009

HARPOONING NEWBLA



JOHN WEST IS CAPTAIN AHAB
AND HE WILL FUCKING KILL YOU.

YOU ARE
THE WHITE WHALE.

Win


JOHNWESTJOHNWESTJOHN


JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU
JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU
JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU
JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU
JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU
JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU
JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU
JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU
JOHNWESTWILLFUCKINGKILLYOU