Thursday, October 10, 2013

Temple of the Aphids



Tuesday, October 08, 2013

The Amicable Meeting


About the only thing rarer than a human woman on Greasefire-G is a human woman who still fires warning shots.

Monday, October 07, 2013

Sinking



Tuesday, October 01, 2013

Bug


Dzar-Pel greets visitors to the hivelands, for his sense-spines are the handsomest of all.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Visions

So I close my eyes--

--I'm standing on the footpath of a nearby road, at night. Car headlights on the far side of the road. nnnNNEEEEUUUMM--a scooter zips by, close to the kerb. The sound dopplers correctly. It clips a puddle and I feel the water on my legs. It is followed by a breeze. The scooter is crimson. The driver is large and hunched, wearing a dark padded jacket with a drawstring or belt pulled tight around the waist.

But I also know that I'm sitting up in bed and no time has passed. It's been three seconds. The whole thing happened between breaths. I'm aware of the dark behind my eyes, and at no point did that awareness fade. I'm not asleep or dreaming in any conventional sense. I'd just pulled the covers over. This was an instant awareness of a moment in some other place.

It was quick and gentle enough to have gone unnoticed. (I suspect that most of these visions do go unnoticed, or else we couldn't function.) But it was powerful enough to merit writing down. It was embodied, I was right there. It wasn't a case of imagining I was there--that's different entirely. I'm imagining it now as I recall it. Instead this had the immediacy of reality--kerb, car, sound-scooter-spray, breeze! Where did that come from?

There's no forcing it. It's not enough to stare into the dark of your closed eyes and try to make out shapes. That's a whole other input stream! You have to turn away from it. You just have to angle your mind in such a way that you notice the visions come and go. With enough practice you come to realise that they are always coming and going, images, sounds, text, entire experiences bubbling up and fading away, twenty-four hours a day. Some part of the mind seems to be very, very busy.

They are closer and closer, the visions, the quick flashes and fully-embodied moments. This is something I've been working on for years as they are a great source of imagery. Pure, context-free inspiration.

Like today, I blink--

--I'm looking up from below a beige dirigible, an airship, huge against a heartbreaking blue sky. Some sort of intricate square scaffold hangs below it, tiny below the balloon. A curving guy rope trails from it right into my hands. The guy rope passes right by my face, right by my eyes, so it's a huge part of my visual field.

That's it, that's the whole thing. It came and went just like that. What triggered it, maybe, was a tiny throwaway thought about weather manipulation--forcing rain from clouds by hanging refrigerant coils covered in metal whiskers from balloons. I wasn't mulling over it, I wasn't trying to imagine what it would look like. I had a thought, put it away somewhere, and a little while later--vision. The mind seems to do its best work when you don't get in the way.

A handy thing for an artist, potentially.

(I wonder if hypnagogic images are associated with the time just before sleep because it's the only time we routinely point our minds away from all the noise and colour. I bet they are available all the time.)

Thursday, June 06, 2013

Shockwave and Cyclonus





Monday, April 08, 2013

The Failed Cities: Truck

An illustration for a pamphlet of art to go along with the upcoming hardback release of The Failed Cities by Matt Wallace.



Saturday, January 26, 2013

Kingfisher Lookout Tower



Wednesday, January 16, 2013

The Incoming Crew



Monday, January 14, 2013

Millenial Feud