: You? Oil on Card. A2  420 x 594mm

We aim, we shoot, we miss, we learn

I stand on the plateau looking down on all below me. Involved in the life time and the most divine. It’s all good. I eat words like food. And you. You are something else, we become as we grow, because you are in my life. And that can only be right.

In a world of infinities we are rendered meaningful by similarities which are themselves fabrications, because we see similarities in the infinite. These “links”, these similarities are fabrications. We are as multiplicipal as beings, but we sense. Water may fall, heads may roll, but we perceive, links, continuation, we feel ourselves in a world of infinite possibility. A similarity human. Private and known to one, but shared by everyone. We live our private lives making sense of it where we can. In the infinite we render meaning by simplification. Conscious animals. “ In a World of chaos where do we find truth”?

Rising, I get to my feet

Unconscious, spontaneous, animal

: I am Always New for You. Oil on Card. A2 420 x 594mm. 

"to be inspired" later

: The True Boo Endeth in Love with You. Oil on Card. A2 420 x 594mm. 

I dream in  an electric binary field

What we know is inadequate, but relevant

This is a contradiction. I am just being

: It's Hugh ! Oil on Card. A2 420 x 594mm. This painting seems to work no matter what the orientation. Try looking at it upside down

: To Be You. Oil on Card. A2 420 x 594mm

Knowledge is the highest form of delayed gratification

: Untitled in Germany. Oil on Card. A2 420 x 594mm

: Untitled in Germany. Oil on Card. A2  420 x 594mm

: Untitled in Germany. Oil on Paper. 75cm x 75cm (approx). Ich bin ein Kunster !

: It, 2. Oil on Card. A1 594 x 841mm

: Join The Queue. Oil on Card. A1 594 x 841mm ( It's all about you )

: Loved and Grew. Oil on Card. A1 594 x 841mm

This is a flawed piece, because i am flawed.

: Loved The Boo. Oil on Canvas. 50cm x 50cm (approx)

The Change

The Change is coming and there is nothing i can do about it. I must live and experience that which comes next, without control or context. It becomes something more like real as i go along the path, Mixing in with the constructed reality which can only become real with commitment. But commitment to what? A fabrication which is "I". The Change is coming. My sandcastles will be taken again by the wave and i shall rebuild the thing. Complex reaction to a simple moment in which i lived.

As i admit life, i must admit death and the change. The change, then i find myself again.

I relate to green. And the imagination in which i create. Nothing else really matters, but the thing i become, and the Change. Taking from life what we will becoming in the Change. 

This is how we become. It is not a matter of building oneself upon secure foundations because the past, like the present is a fabrication dependent on experience, tainted by emotion, everything moving. The Change.

Do i exist? If not in the Change. I am the Change. 

The emotion you see in my paintings exist in certainty, elusive and real for near i hold your opinion seen from another angle. Be not dead. I fear the Change. But it happens again. Then i pick it up to try to bring some sense of continuity to the world. For your sake i do this. But why? Why should my narrative have continuity? Is it not enough to express? Will you take meaning from this dislocation? Do I care? This is the nature of the Change

I try to make something beautiful from it. A beautiful life

Oh, to live in a beautiful life. 

: The Boo, The Noo. Oil on Card. A1  594 x 841mm

: A Portrait of Who I Am Today. Oil on Card. A1 594 x 841mm