Cutting it up and sticking it

Trying hard to not sound like a monumental wanker I would say...
my art is like a sherman tank being driven by a kamikaze elf *

I make visual representations of the equation:

Fairyland + Real Life = Santa Claus Eating Reindeer

multiply that by Richard the III and divide by Hellen Keller and you get something approaching me & my out tray

* I take photographs to make better representations of what I can see
* I use collage/decoupage when I don't want to see things as they are
* I paint and draw when I can't see what I want to

I cut:
- words and pictures into pieces and out of context and into another context - make them mine and rearrange them to suit me
- away at icons, blinkers, self-importance, our capitalist masters, boring jobs, housework, the "crapadization" of the world

Think of me as a surgeon, or sturgeon, with embroidery scissors, cutting away to get to the tumour.

I cut it out and then hold it up and we look in amazement at the cause of distress.
(Your diet of crap no doubt and too much mousework.)

Then we sew things up as best we can,
play golf with leftover body parts, and move on.

A runaway gypsy caravan with the wheels falling off...
I like to use wood that belonged to other people for a time (I'm cheap). The wooden objects that I make-over are generally
kitchen or dining room castoffs (I'm not fussy). I like to use images from old picture books and encyclopedias (I'm a thief) -
pictures made by somebody a long time ago (I'm a sentimental fool); most are forgotten images, thrown away by kids
now planning their retirement (and I'll be dead one day too).
I like using these pictures because they are like chips that have been buried deep in the body. I'd like to see if the chips
are still working -- I want to see if we can communicate chip to chip (because I love you, you big lug).

A Tijuana donkey flying to heaven on a carpet of roses.
In my world everybody wins.
If you are a pretentious git I will gently dismantle the scaffolding under your nose.
If you are a cynical wretch I will try to dissolve the thorns wrapped around your heart.
If you are dead inside...it could be too late...but no! the light will be brighter when it comes and the years of pain will fall away like
the straps of an old bra.

What's stoking my coals

Not having enough time to choose an outfit for the Rapture.

How about you?

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* to the tune of "you've got to be cruel to be kind."