Lickn

Two soft lads, One pink mag.

Art Licks (a new conciousness) - http://www.artlicks.com/ is an art magazine written by art-writers, for onion-minds.

Subsequently, we bought one. (two)

And luckily we featured in it (see page 37, paragraph 'dad').

Read all about it if you're bored/stuck on the train with your fat Mum.

Horny Paul KINDERSLEY wrote it, and he curated the show.

Lub

G & J.x

(More bath pics here)

Postal bloat

Hello,

This week we have been to Sheffield to show them our art-knickers.

First we visited 'Site Gallery'. The less said about that the better.
Secondly we saw the wonderful Líšeň Profile by Kateřina Šedá, at the Millenium Galleries. More about this place full of faces can be seen at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCcvgC5miPw

We then decided to better Kateřina's work by creating our own on the free postcards provided. (Look at the pics below you idiot).

Insects

Just like most insects, we are at our most dangerous and horniest when the sun is out.

We have been away spending our dismal sabbaths creating a plethora of new paintings that mainly follow the theme of literature (or the written word/turd).

These are our meager offerings:

The Directory of Possibilities, 2011

Acrylic, oilstick, felt tip pen, spray paint and glitter on canvas

Just as our art heroes immortalised their favourite books into paintings, such as Basquiat with 'Greys Anatomy' - we have decided it is time to celebrate our favourite literature - one that is understated in any intellects library.

'The Directory of Possibilities' by John Grant and Colin Wilson highlights everything in the world that isn't quite fact, but is possible. Filled with nonsense thoughts about fish-men and time travel it is the imaginings and logic of an infantile mind trapped within a university lecturate shell. Just like our painting it is limitless idiocy dangling its meat between silly and science.

The Critic, 2011

Acrylic, oilstick, spray paint and house paint on found wood

This tryptic of paintings is nastily rendered onto three found pieces of wood that were hinged together to form a rather intimidating crowd of painted figures.

Each one carries a message to its viewer, an attack on the weak or an amused fact to the accepting.

It is all about criticism, and the bizzare living made by Critics; a person who'se job it is to judge how good someone else is at theirs. We aren't against such negativity, it is a joy we too share. Now face the music, and don't bother dancing - you're too fat (or ugly).

Panic attack at the wheel, 2011

Acrylic, oilstick, spray paint and felt tip pen on canvas

We decided to paint ‘Panic Attack at the Wheel’ after reading an essay on Cy Twombly’s work ‘Pan’.

His work relates to the feeling of anxiety of being dwarfed and placed at risk by nature, and it is explained how the word panic takes its name from Pan, the Greek God of hunting, mountains and companion of the nymphs.

Our painting, like many of our works seeks to closely relate themes we have enjoyed in others’ work to our own situation; to place the romantic and literary inside of the grimy, frustrated realities of most people.

Here we have taken the acute anxiety of walking alone in the forest and applied it to driving in morning traffic, the panic of being late, the panic of sleepless nights. All the fears that neither Cy Twombly, nor the fictional figure at the heart of our investigation have had to endure for quite some time.

Flossed in Translation, 2011

Acrylic, oilstick and pen on wooden panel,

A poignant and sardonic outlook on life, and its meaningless depicted through the nature of teeth.

The only exposed bone on the human body, we spend our lives maintaining them, making them as visually pleasing as possible. Regardless, they gradually waste away and become stained and decayed. When we die, they stay behind - a sad reminder of how hard we worked to stay immortal, and the truth is we needn't have bothered. Keep working hard for what you have right now (smile), because when you pass away, it will become as worthless and useless as your teeth.

Dr Sax, 2011

Acrylic, oilstick and spray paint on cardboard

A portrait of Jack Kerouac's imagined ghoul 'Dr Sax', the 'tall, thin, hawk-nosed, caped, whitegloved, glint eyed, sardonic' hero of Kerouac's stories of his youthful imagination.

We like Dr Sax because he lurks in the shadows and casts scorning looks, much like us.