Keen followers of id-iom will know that we like to put a little write up with our pieces. Today is no exception but it appears we’ve run into a small snag. Neither of us can seemingly come up with anything suitable for today’s decidedly lovely painting. She’s a wistful looking lady gazing off stage left. That much is for sure.
It’s usually quite obvious (to us at least) what the blurb will be. But not today. It’s veered from being related to the boredom of lockdown to living in a crashed space station to shouting at your own private parts. I wish I was making it up. Now, in the fruitless search for a write up, I’ve had to go all existential and write about my inability to come up with something to write about. Meta. Take from it all what you will…
If you’d like to give her a home drop us a line etc. It is A2 on high quality Bockingford paper and made using Acrylic, paint pen, watercolour pencil and spray paint.
Karen had been feeling more unsure of herself ever since the prophesied day of reckoning, as predicted by QAnon, had failed to materialise. She fervently believed in the power of deposed president Donald J Trump to battle against the ‘elite satanic paedophile rings’ that she just knew must be operating covertly somewhere out there. The internet had told her so.
The funny thing was Karen was English, lived in Kent and had no bonds to America whatsoever. She did live alone with an indeterminate number of cats however. None of this was clearly any barrier to her becoming a believer though. Now, when she thinks about just about anything her thought process becomes hazy and she quickly becomes angry. Pretty much like her picture really.
Every day’s a learning day. Or so they say. I can definitely confirm this for the days I was using a palette knife to create this image. It started out as something else but ended up as Karen here. As is life.
Callie was old. Very old. Although she didn’t look it and woe betide anyone who didn’t appreciate her fair skin and face. She was also a sea witch which, if you consult your big book of mythology, are powerful and capricious beings. Offending a sea witch by such means as refusing to pay her for her services, insulting her looks, or refusing to acknowledge her powers could end in disaster as she might choose to destroy an entire ship if she so wishes.
On the other hand though they can help people out just because they feel like it too. I guess that’s the nature of being capricious. Just a few weeks ago she’d been fooling around in the Irish Sea when she came across a lone jet-skier getting knocked about in the frigid and choppy water on a roundabout course for the Isle of Man. One quick divination later and she knew he was to become the Jet-Ski Romeo. It had never been in her nature to defy the course of true love so she decided to assist his crossing. And that’s the only reason he made it. Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
On A4 made using acrylic, oil pastel and paint pen. Drop us a line if you’re interested in giving her a new home
With lockdown 3.0 thrust upon us all by the powers that be Timothy is starting to feel strange. He thought all this would be over by now, that the world would be back to normal, that he could leave the oppressive flat he has been in for what seems like forever. That is not the case though sadly, instead, Timothy has had to occupy himself for close to a year and things are now starting to get weird.
He’s tuned one of his eyes to pick up QAnon conspiracies using the 5g microchip that Bill gates implanted using the covid radiating pigeons.The other he uses to watch reruns of short-lived musical police drama ‘Cop Rock’ on repeat. Between both eyes he feels like he has reached peak cognitive dissonance. This has led Timothy into a state of what he likes to call ‘vacant obscurity’. He’ll likely be this way until March…
It is A4 and made using acrylic, oil pastel and paint pen. Drop us a line if you need him to adorn some uninspiring wall…