Friendly Pixels a new series, I am developing, came about from my need to
create some order out of the world’s present chaos; the tendency towards
totalitarianism; a dismaying lack of respect for the feminine in every aspect of
life, including the arts, where a majority of graduates from art college are
women and not even a tenth of them are being shown in galleries or museums.

And last, but not least, a bridge from the expulsive art with no thought behind
it, like the new “spin art”, created by throwing paint on a moving canvas and
spinning it around, to something not totally regressively traditional. The spin
fad is not unlike perhaps the roulette table, pointing to our present penchant
for gambling, leaving everything to chance rather than thinking about how and
what to create and what does it communicate and doing some work on
ourselves in the process.

Our intellectualism is dying even in academia circles. Thus the “Thinker”. Some
part-time professors are having to top up their salaries with sex work.
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Also I am rebelling somewhat from the push towards digital arts, art that is
factory polished and lacking in an intuitive hand-made feel. Art that is fastmoving
but does not inspire contemplation. Thus the pixels, except mine are
friendlier I feel, because art done by hand is still more alive and capable of
expressing emotions.

My most recent work, “Couplet” is about the feminine needing to have strength
or backbone grit in our times, which does not necessarily mean brittle rigidity
but more the willowy bendable softness and flexibility of a willow tree that
bends with the wind but does not break. A couplet is a poem and this one
refers to the need for community, not just me me me. The need to look after
each other because we are all humans.

The saying that having balls is being tough is wrong, balls are in fact very
fragile, as man’s violent strength will easily crumble under fire. The vagina, the
feminine however, can take a pounding as they say.

“Surrender” isn’t about being passive, it is about being open, to life to intuition
to the Muse. It is not an ego vomit on canvas. It takes practice and skill to be
open to that. It takes some order.

The feminine takes refuge in Nature, thus “Refuge” was born and “If Not For
You”.

“How many Times” is about violence against women that is talked a lot about
but nothing much changes it seems.
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Women have wild souls that carry deep intuitive thought but often they are
raised to be barbie dolls for men’s pleasure ..and as society makes progress the
fate of women keeps regressing. Margaret Atwood’s prophetic book
“Handmaiden’s Tale” is being born in reality as we speak in Trump’s America.
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Technology is fun and useful but lets not throw the baby out with the bath
water. Painting will always live and a Van Gogh seen live talks to your soul in a
way no digital print will ever be capable of.

We think we are such a smart civilized people in the west beyond any aboriginal culture that came before. We respect our people so much and think we are so developed beyond Nature that we actually use plastic lined coffins with heavily painted veneers to bury our dead. How intelligent is that?

​We think Nature is just a dead invention to make our lives more comfortable and pleasant. We create technology and paper money from trees to stay indoors hooked up to our computers. We use drugs or internet porn for dopamine release to stimulate pleasure and we no longer need other people and messy relationships. Meditation even can happen automatically with "mind machines", you don't have to sit in a dojo, freezing and bored while a Zen master beats you with sticks to keep you awake.

Lets face it people, some of us have woken up and said "halt", we need to back track here because nature is rebelling against our supreme arrogance and egotism. We have disrespected our Universe and its creation and thought we could play God and do better, be God without the necessary emptying of self, that of necessity requires sacrifice.
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Now we are at war with those of us that want the human ego to keep dictating in our world, who are comfortable with things as they are, who don't really understand that all will die except for that plastic lined coffin, where the body inside, that was meant to be fodder for plants is rotting uselessly forever.