I recognise the curve of your spine
screwed up over your favourite screen
carpace forming against any possible
onslaught of early bed time
clean teeth or curtailed pastimes
You do it well. My own defence.
Drawn out in-between my past’s
open handed clout about the head
and my unwanted open armed embrace
nearly being what we both need.
The vantage point from sitting on a beast
like Geryon, (the one I rode before)
gave us an overview of things – at least
this circle, made of separate levels. More
like looking down a spiral staircase or
the atrium of a department store.
They’re marching single file on every floor,
alternate clockwise/anti-clockwise all
without a stitch of clothing (as before).
All levels joined by bridges through their walls,
all bridges head towards a central well,
all draws us through the fires and sewage falls.
Horned devil’s eyes surveyed this sewage Hell,
in Hi-Viz orange, holding scaffold poles
and cracked them over anyone who fell.
“I’m sure that guy is someone who’s well known.
A politician maybe? Let me ask…
Err… could you tell me why you’re here?”
“Er. No.
Not really.” Eyes unblinking, cold and hard
until he breathes: “Well maybe then I guess.
I compromised a politicians star
by blackmailing my sister into sex
with her to get her out the way. She begged
me not to make it known.” He smirked and said
I’m not the worst down here by any stretch.”
A devil said “You’re still a fucking pimp.”
and swung a scaffold pole down on his neck.
They ushered him away before I blinked
as Patrick tried to guide my thoughts elsewhere
and walked us to a bridge down through the stink.
“You see that figure? Royal looking? There.
That’s Jason, as in “Argonauts”. Not like
the film though. There’s a story section where
he lands at Lemnos Island where he strikes
up with the Queen there, fathering a child
then starts his quest and walks out of her life.
Madea too.” But Patrick doesn’t smile.
A deep red triangle blush has grown
on both his cheeks beneath that frown he styled
for TV. “Jason. Is he someone known
to you?” A beat. Then curtly: “No.”
“I feel
like you’re annoyed with me or something.”
“NO!”
Then silence. “This is where they punish me.”
I’m not sure what to say. I knew it laid
there somewhere near that frown’s temerity.
He mumbles that “It’s just the way I’m made.”
It’s more though lack of insight that I’m loathe
to speak, and hear the things he needs to say
“I had two families at once back home
and other things besides that no-one knows
but that’s enough of that.” I force a groan
from him by asking: “What did they think though?”
“They seem to learn to live with it OK
I s’pose.”
“What really? No-one minded?”
“Oh,
of course they struggled. Things were tense some days.
It was my curse to bear, and I’m cursed here,
but everybody copes in different ways.
But that’s enough for anyone to hear.
Let’s put that smile back on our faces now
and head on over to the next one near
that bridge that leads towards the groaning sound.”
The next concentric circle, full of crap
and people writhing on the shitty ground,
so full of folk, so covered in it that
you couldn’t tell if they were priests or not.
One face looks up. “What are you staring at?”
I looked at Pat. “I go to church a lot.
You learn that there are certain types of priests.
To break a dull routine becomes their God.”
I shout down: “Tell us why you’re here at least.”
“It’s my own fault!” Regretfully he slaps
his forehead which explodes with shit and grease.
“I needed things and flattery became a trap.
I could be overly obsequious
for bishopric…” But Pat has turned his back
observing something else. “Oh look at this!
My old friend Thaïs the whore! You two must meet…
Just lean a little over the abyss.
You’ll catch a sight of her, but be discreet.”
At first I see her shitty nails. Hands grip
a horizontal scaffold pole. Defeat
behind her eyes, she turns to me and squints.
I see her, feet apart. She’s squatting up
and down repeatedly. I hear a wince
escape my throat, as Patrick looks me up
and down. And also her. He laughs to log
my obvious disgust. “Oh, what the fuck
is wrong with you? For fuck’s sake Patrick. God…”
Copyright © Michael L Radcliffe 2018
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It’s amazing what a good morning in the studio can do for your confidence as an artist. The results in the photo above speak for themselves, I think. Click on the image, and you’ll get a much better look at the work.
I’m not sure what to call this yet, but it’ll be something like “Awe” or “Shock & Awe”. Or maybe even “AW!”
Dimensions wise, it’s (h)50 cm x (w) 35 cm x (d) 5 cm, or 19 1/2″ x 13 1/4″ x 2″ in British.
I’m really really pleased with the way this has turned out. A few months ago, you may remember, I bought some Japanese end paper (the sort that goes in the inside cover of hardback books) with the idea of doing something with it.
I’ve spent ages making a frame, and glueing the paper to it nice and flat using wheat starch paste. Wheat starch paste is what the pros use to put in Japanese end papers. It’ll basically last for ages, and is about the best quality stuff there is. PVAs and other cheaper glues tend to dry out in no time, which means they go yellow, and stop being sticky. You don’t want your painting falling off, now do you?
Anyway, it seemed fairly obvious to paint something contrasting on the top, and I like the humourous play of the guy being awed by the flock of cranes (I think they’re cranes. Maybe they’re swans) in the background. This is also quite unusual for me, in that I don’t usually paint figuratively (awful word, but you know what I mean). I’ve hand painted the figure in acrylic, and paid a lot of attention to detail. I didn’t project it and trace at all it this time. I cut out one of my own photos, and used it as a stencil for the outline, but the rest was completely freehand.
I think this is the start of a very good series of works. More to come.
By the way, don’t forget that I’m moving this blog shortly. RSS readers and bookmarks at the ready now. I’ll tell you when and where soon. Not long now…
Read MoreThere are times when a painting will really leap of a canvas/board/piece of paper in a way that sometimes surprises you. Call it what you will, but there’s a really vivid “prescence” to some works that is hard to either define or ignore, and is more than the sum of it’s parts.
These most recent works of mine have just that. I really feel like these are the best things I’ve made in years. But they are a bit spooky. Well, actually a lot spooky.
[youtube=http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=70EcqoS7rfo]
Hmm.. this is frustrating….
For a while now, I’ve been toying with the idea of setting up an online shop – a central place where you can buy anything I do – and have been working quite hard at making some work to sell for a few days. Simple.. I thought.. Paypal.. no problem..
However, having just posted it all here, a friend has just pointed out that it’s a rather large violation of the Terms & Conditions of wordpress.com.
Oops.
So, I have had to set it up somewhere else at short notice. Better that than a deleted blog, hmm?
“Beyond Addiction” is a new, limited edition work by me. There are ten of them, handmade, each signed and numbered by the artist (that would also be me). The piece is made of cigarettes, pins, card, and emergency keyholder frames. The dimensions are: (h) 119mm x (w) 119mm x (d) 33mm, and come with fixing instructions and a couple of screws and wallplugs.
It’s been crazy precision work with a scalpel for the past few days, and I am cross-eyed, sore of hand, wrist and elbow, as I’ve basically made this work about 3 times more than what I needed to, just to get everything to be perfect. I spent a whole afternoon just trying to get the white card to be the right size to fit in the back of the tray. Another day spent cutting them (I threw about 15 away because they were too ragged). And so on.
Anyway, we’ll see if this works. This is my first attempt at selling artwork online, and I’m quite excited by the thought of people owning a piece of original artwork by me – so it’s a bit of an experiment to see how it goes.
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