Pocket size Emma Willis

Sometimes, when I’m feeling a little low, I imagine a small, pocket-sized Emma Willis giving me a big thumbs up and suddenly everything is better. Once I make this product a commercial reality I think the world will be a more harmonious place. Just make sure you read the instructions first. It can be tricky to get the settings right.

Today’s crystal resin on the piece represents the idea that ‘into each life some rain must fall’ – and pocket size Emma Willis is here to buck you up when that rain does, inevitably, fall.

Cheers

id-iom

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Just think of the exposure

Today’s piece is one for the artists out there. Unlike just aboutu any other professions I can think of there is some weird thing with artists where people seem to expect you to work for free on the basis that doing whatever job they’re suggesting would be good exposure for you. You try that with a plumber and I’m pretty sure what happens next.

Frankly, given that we like painting up big walls and signing them, we’re okay at gathering that precious exposure for ourselves. Anyway this picture depicts my face and general demeanour when anyone even mentions working for ‘exposure’, the crystal resin represents my tears and the little bird is telling us we’re chumps for even listening to such a proposal and to run away as swiftly as my little legs will carry me…

Cheers

id-iom

What’s the song? (cryptic stencilling edition)

Do you know what happens when I’m left alone for too long. This. This is what happens. I happened upon the heart stencil whilst doing a small tidy of my paint area. It had slipped down the back of the table. Pesky stencil. Upon realising what stencil it was my brain did some kind of paradigm shift and unleashed an earworm upon me. Now I’m attempting to bring that earworm to you through the medium of cryptic stencilling. Once I’d knocked up a quick gun stencil I was good to go. So, which 80’s karaoke classic am I trying to get across here? Answers on a postcard. And if i’m lucky you’ll have it bouncing round your head all day. I’m all heart sometimes…

Cheers

id-iom

Dead Bad Dibo Bunny

Dead Bad Dibo Bunny

We had a small competition a little while ago on Facebook where I posted the image below (with the caption at the bottom cropped off) and had people guess what the rabbit was up to.

The answers regarding what the bunny were up to were pretty much uniformly bad suggesting that he was a serial killer or perhaps some kind of drug addict. Personally I think it’s the look in his beady little eye that gives that impression.  The poster suggests otherwise. Patrick (for that is his name) is actually putting in or otherwise adjusting his new hearing aids. Assumably it’s so he can hear the blood curdling screams of his victims or hear his dealer when he calls him up.

The truth is bad things just seem to follow Patrick wherever he goes. He was kicked out of his warren at the tender age of 2 when he was still a big ball of fluff but they already knew then what i’m telling you now. Nobody really knows what he was up to for the next few years. Some say he spent some time with an unorthodox Irish shaman trying to learn the mysteries of life, others that he was a ruthless pimp in Bolton and there’s one person who swears he was heavily involved with the creation of One Direction. Maybe all three are true? Anyway, the next time we have any concrete evidence of his whereabouts is from medical records suggesting he suffered some kind of traumatic ear loss. There are no details as to how or why.

Today’s piece was the prize for the closest guess as to what Patrick was doing and gives us some kind of update on what he’s doing now. Exactly what that is I’m not sure. It doesn’t look particularly good though. It’s called ‘Dead Bad Dibo Bunny’ and is currently in its new home in Germany. That’s all I know for sure…

 

 

Cheers

id-iom

Discombobulated mumbo jumbo artist

Ever since I heard Jon Snow (from Channel 4 news rather than Game of Thrones) describe someone as a ‘discombobulated mumbo jumbo artist’ I have aspired to be described as such. I can’t remember now who he was describing and I’m pretty sure it was meant as an insult but it’s a great phrase that has stuck in my head for ages now. I even tweeted him about it at the time but he sadly never replied. What has this got to do with today’s piece I hear you ask. Well, the truth is very little but given our proclivity to come up with write ups for our work I had to come up with something and I had mental block when it came to this picture of a somewhat grotesque face on a small jigsaw. If it wasn’t likely to fall to pieces I’d probably put it out on the street. Make of it what you will…

Cheers

id-iom

As the crow dies…

As the crow dies…

The years had  passed slowly since the dark times at the Feast of McDonald’s. The war with the gulls was now over – with untold casualties on both sides – but the realm as a whole had survived and had now seen peace for a good while under his rule. Seismic changes were already in motion though as the King of the Corvidae had cawed for the very last time. The gears of war were turning once more. The corvidae needed to appoint a new king who could shoulder the mighty burden set before him.

For most the only real potential successor was Belasko. He had proved his mettle many times before both in battle and in diplomacy but he was getting on a little in age. The majority of his potential subjects didn’t really consider this a problem but he was deeply worried about his suitability for the role. He was a soldier, not a leader, as he kept telling himself and the many worried councillors that were scurrying around him but the more he brought this point up the more eveyone got excited.

He knew in his heart that the Corvidae required another type of leader, one that was not drenched in blood and tied to the past like himself. At the same time he realised the tide of history may just carry him along regardless. This would require some machavellian dexterity he wasn’t sure he still possessed. He would certainly have to ruffle some feathers and didn’t have much time to lose but he had been in this game long enough to know that if he played his cards just right he might just be able to select the right bird for the job…

If you like this then you’ll be glad to know we’ve got previous in the world of crow related art. It is, in fact, a sequel to an earlier piece called King of the Corvidae.

Cheers

id-iom

The Rage

I’d never come across the term ‘rage quit’ until I witnessed my big brother (he’s over 40) playing Call of Duty and becoming so enraged by getting constantly taunted and killed by 11 year olds that he shouted a few choice swear words at the screen, launched the controller at the other sofa and stormed over to turn the console off. When I asked what that was all about he said quite calmly ‘oh I rage quit a few times a week’. Like it was normal. Now, that isn’t to say I haven’t been in a rage before but I’d like to think they are over something a little more important. Anyway, today’s piece is a little homage to that red mist of rage inside all of us that smoulders but never quite goes out and occasionally, although hopefully rarely, bursts into furious yet impotent life.

As with all the pieces I’ve been doing recently he’s a bit of mixed media magic featuring some spraypaint, crystal resin, dymo tape and whatever else I was using.

Cheers

id-iom

Fish Fingers: The Truth

WARNING: LIFE SPOILER AHEAD.

My life has been a lie. How can I right this colossal wrong? Can I speak to trading standards about the fact I’ve been mis-sold fish fingers my entire life. FISH DON’T HAVE FINGERS! It’s a fact. I’ve checked and double-checked. I even took up fishing for a while just to prove my point. So today’s piece is as much a public service announcement as it is art piece to vent my feelings on this most foul of lucifer’s lies. Fish do generally have teeth though. And this fish is, in fact, the pacu fish which is a close relative of the piranha and has teeth that look pretty much human-like. I’m not joking. Look up ‘pacu fish teeth’ if you don’t believe me.

As with all the pieces I’ve been doing recently he’s a bit of mixed media magic featuring some spraypaint, crystal resin, dymo tape and whatever else I was using.

Cheers

id-iom

Mama never said it’d be easy

There are many truisms in life. That is to say a statment that is obviously true and says nothing new or interesting. People spout them all the time like some kind of mantra. Something like ‘You’ll never know how strong you are until strong is the only choice you have’ or ‘nothing is black and white’ are the kind of things that spring to mind. ‘Mama never said it would be easy’ surely fits along the same lines but it’s a fair bit snappier than most and to be pulled out in times of hardship with a wry smile on your face – assumably just before someone else tells you to shut your cakehole.

Anyway, you might be thinking that the above would be reason enough for today’s piece. But no. We used to have a jacket with ‘Mama never said it would be easy’ on the back and for some reason that somewhat useless phrase has stuck with me. Now maybe I’ve done a piece featuring the phrase perhaps it can now just leave me alone and not spring into my mind at inopportune times…

As with all the pieces I’ve been doing recently he’s a bit of mixed media magic featuring some spraypaint, crystal resin, dymo tape and whatever else I was using.

Cheers

id-iom

How to spot an urban vampire

Vampires have been a popular culture phenomenon ever since Bram Stoker knocked out ‘Dracula’ in 1897. We’ve seen vampires in many guises but today I give you the definitive guide to how to spot a modern day urban vampire. By some standards it’s quite easy but you have to know what to look for.

‘Bats for hair’ is the first thing. As we all know, vampires are naturally bald but over time they’ve convinced squadrons of undead bats to cling to their scalps in some semblance of a hairpiece. They tend to have a glamour (or spell) that makes the beasts look just like a well tousled head of hair but if you squint just right you can see the little blighters scrabbling over each other for purchase or occassionally flying off to snatch a nearby fly.

The fact that vampires tend to smoke hemlock cigarettes is another giveaway. With a smell more acrid than burning tyres one hit will kill you in an instant but that doesn’t stop them passing them over for a toke to anyone stupid enough to ask what it is.

Finally, vampires love bling. And not just any one old bling. They believe that ancient gold artifacts posess the power of civilisations now gone. And the mythical Golden Fleece is the most revered of the lot. Here he’s had it spun into an actual fleece so he’ll be able to pass as normal a bit more easily whilst out and about. So there you go. Now you now.

As with all the pieces I’ve been doing recently he’s a bit of mixed media magic featuring some spraypaint, crystal resin, dymo tape and whatever else I was using.

Cheers

id-iom