What do you do when a cockatiel lands on you and refuses to budge? This is the problem Martin here is currently dealing with and so far he doesn’t have scooby about the best way forward. All that he has managed so far is to christen him Gary.
Gary has been perched on his hand for the last 3 months now and chirps incessantly. Martin’s had enough. He’s called the RSPB but they thought he was pulling their leg then finally he tried his friend who has been known to go trophy hunting in Kenya but he wouldn’t do it because he had a dentist’s conference to go to and besides he already had 40 taxidermy cockatiels at home.
Martin now hasn’t slept for 72 hours as Gary has upped his chirping game. At times Martin thinks he can understand the chirps but at other times they sound like the discombobulating noises used in psychological operations in the 1950s. That is because Gary has been taught many techniques by the US military. Why is another question entirely…
It is A3 in size and made using imagination gouache, watercolour, and acrylic. If interested in giving it a new home don’t hesitate to get in touch.
This piece doesn’t quite seem as relevant now at this point in the pandemic than when I started it back in week 1 of lockdown – but given my busy schedule I’ve only now got round to completing it. We always knew it was going to happen, the old ‘Do as I say, not as I do’ adage, but seeing Cummings and the like actually flaunt the rules and then make up creative reasons why their actions were completely reasonable is easily enough to get our collective indignation bubbling away.
So, given a map of London I thought it might be good to put this notion in a more graphical manner so you can easily determine if you are one of the hoi polloi or if you meet the requirements to do whatever you want wherever you like with whomever you see fit.
id-iom does not bear any responsibility for the geographical accuracy of this map however so you can stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
Mathilda had been staring at the ceiling of her bedroom for the last 17 hours straight. She wasn’t incapacitated or ill or bed bound however. She was, in fact, trying to ‘touch the void’ – a place apparently outside the framework of space and time as we understand it. She had read about it on a lifestyle influencer’s post on Instagram which had a picture of them sitting on a lone rock in some holistic yoga position with a few emojis thrown over the top. And that
post had over 11 thousand likes.
Eventually she gave up because she was hungry. As she wolfed down the eggs on toast she wondered if the influencer had ever really touched the void or was actually just making it all up. Whilst she was thinking she was also watching a Trump coronavirus press conference and came to the sudden conclusion that was all she really needed to connect with the bleak desolation of the void. It turned out it was pretty easy after all.
It is A2 in size and made using acrylic, spray paint, oil pastel and paint pen.
Things have been getting a little weird since lockdown. The intense boredom and general anxiety mix together in some odd combinations. In order to combat this I thought a self-portrait may be in order. I was wrong.
Looking at the paper in front of me I saw myself staring back or at least some facsimile of me – but things just weren’t quite right. The head too elongated, the nose too small but the dead, lifeless eyes I seemed to have got just right.
Then I realised it wasn’t really me but that unflinching dolt High Risk Hugo. A stain on society if ever I saw one. A man who on his good days was more like Chuck Norris on flakka trying to chat up your girlfriend but on his bad days the social equivalent of someone slipping a dead slug in your mouth and holding it shut.
I’ll not be doing another selfie anytime soon. We don’t need to let that particular cat out of the bag…
Karen had never even been anywhere near China. The closest she’d come was the china Wedgewood plate set that had been given her by her aunt and she’d disinfected the whole set just to be sure as soon as the whole Coronavirus thing had started in China. She’d been fretting for days. She’d even made her son burn his entire collection of Wu Tang Clan music and memorabilia to be on the safe side because it sounds a bit like Wuhan. Yet, when she looked in the mirror she knew something wasn’t right. Despite all her precautions, it would appear she’d come down with something after all…
It is A2 in size and made using gouache, acrylic, oil pastel, googly eyes and a touch of imagination.
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