The other day we were doing a graffiti workshop where people were spray painting skateboard decks. To facilitate this we brought out our big bags of random stencils that we have cultivated over the years. As we were sorting them out before the workshop we came across two pieces stuck together. After a little needling, some swearing and the application of careful hands we managed to extract this thing of beauty from in between them. Two become one, as the Spice Girls famously sang.
Although it is now pretty much useless as a working stencil I think it would look good framed but then what do I know?
Whilst painting I managed to spill my cup of tea. Usually a catastrophe of such proportions would cause me to curl up in the fetal position and start crying over the waste of such lovely nectar. This time however, before my tear ducts could react, I saw something in the spill.
Before I knew it the Muse was upon me and I searched frantically for a pencil lest my creative urge abandoned me. After about a long minute of searching I found one behind my ear (damn those days spent on building sites) now all I had to do was a few quick lines and the Muse disappeared to relieve Molly Quirke (age 9) of a small case of creative block related to drawing a horse.
Ever heard of ‘The Penge Society of Awkward Walkers’? Apparently they have an annual moseying competition where points are awarded for style, grace and speed. If I’m to believe the other half of id-iom he clinched it from the standing champion, a one Mr Fiac Cain, in this year’s final.
I used to do a bit of professional moseying myself back in the day and couldn’t really take this kind of thing lying down so set up a match with the other half and finangled Fiac Cain as referee. Two birds with one stone and all that. My winning mosey was a graceful mashup of my interpretation of a swan in flight and Natalie Imbruglia’s ‘Torn’. Nothing else came close.
As per the Ancient Rules of id-iom I demanded a piece of art showcasing how the loser felt for my prize. What I got in return was this piece titled ‘Memento Mori’. I’m interpreting the skull as his, not mine…
‘Memento Mori’ is A3 in size and made using imagination, a little resentment, acrylic paint and smoke from a magic candle. If you’d like to give it a new home just get in touch.
‘If there’s hell below, we’re all gonna go’ sang Curtis Mayfield on his 70’s soul classic. If he’s right I guess I’ll see you down there at some point…
For our second street drop we were determined to find somewhere that would take a good shot and we lucked upon the red tags so just whacked it up right over the top, took a snap and let it get on with it’s new life.
We were invited up to the suitably swanky Hill House in Norfolk to adorn their already impeccably adorned walls with some large scale outdoor id-iom artwork. Given that Hill House is often hired out for parties and events we thought we’d try and come up with something suitable and ‘In vino veritas, in aqua sanitas’ is the result.
The Latin phrase translates as ‘In wine there is truth, in water there is health’ and it is a sentiment of which id-iom and, I’d like to think, Hill House itself approves. The table tennis table in the same outdoor space was looking a little worse for wear so we decided to give that a little makeover too in order to match the newly minted mural. The place was lovely, the weather was great and the staff (when we saw them) were equally so. It was all work though as being artists-in-residence for the week left ample time to stroll the grounds with a shandy in hand examining the very many cute bunny rabbits that also shared the garden dispensing nuggets of truth…
We here at id-iom seem to like Ramesses II or Ozymandias as the Greeks called him as this is our second picture based on one of the greatest pharaohs of the Egyptian Empire. This time I feel I should use the now famous words of Percy Shelley to describe the king of kings:
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
As a side note he lived till around the age of 90/91, most men don’t live that long nowadays and this was 1213 BC. Maybe there is hope for me then…
This piece is based on an old design that I liked and thought deserved another outing because who doesn’t like skull headed dominatrix types waving flags around?
Wondering where I could take the picture I started doing a little internet research on flags and it wasn’t long before I was reading about flag semaphore which, as I’m sure we’re all aware, is a telegraphy system for conveying information at a distance by means of visual signals with hand-held flags. With this in mind I endeavour to find out what my flag wielding lunatic was trying to say and it would seem all she could do was the letter ‘N’ over and over again. If she was trying to tell me something I’m not 100% sure what it is. Maybe I’ll try and teach her some more and see if we can’t get something more eloquent forthcoming…