Painting With Oils and Inks

Okay, something a little different today I think. I recently found some old oil paintings I did back in 2000 that I worked on during a huge transition in my life. It was a pivotal moment when I finally came out of the closet and began to feel the need to experiment and express myself at the same time. I had been given a present from my grandparents, an old Chines paint box complete with the 4 treasures as they are called. Artists from China used to paint and manufacture calligraphy using the inkstone, inkstick, brush and paper.   


I have to admit I have enjoyed using these techniques. The ease of creating a figure or a landscape using very simplistic brush strokes creates feelings of serenity as you follow the rule of Chines minimalism. Only, I found it very difficult to follow the technique. My Western mind could not adjust to it. Too complex. Too cluttered. I wanted to draw with too much detail, using too many brush stokes, which is the antithesis to Chines ink drawing. I bought books on the subject. One in particular entitled, The Practical Art of Chines Brush Painting by Pauline Cherrett, was a wonderfully illustrated book on how to follow this simple rule. My mind conjured images of birds perched on twigs, colourful Coy Carp swimming in a lake, even landscapes where pagodas met the setting sun before a mountainous range. All scarcely detailed with sparing strokes of the artist's brush. I opened the box and instantly went about creating my own Chines drawings.

Maybe not as minimal as I would have liked. As you can see, far too much detail was put into the effort. And for one thing, i couldn't quite get away from the cartoon style of drawing which I was more accustomed to. But I tried. And yet it was another challenge that I gave up on very quickly. I still have the inks and the box to this day. Who knows, maybe one day I'll try it again. 

Another thing I tried back in 2004 was oil painting. I would buy stretched canvases from the Works on the high street. I also had an easel and all the kit. The idea was, since I had left home and had moved into a flat with a best friend and my partner, was to spend that summer painting out in the back yard with Mike, who was my friend at the time. I hadn't long come out as gay and I was eager to try

the type of homoerotic art that, at the time, I found rather interesting. I'd bought a book in a shop in Nottingham entitled, The Boy by Germaine Greer. The book was filled with photos and paintings depicting the beauty of the male form and on the front sleeve was the image of Bjorn Andresen that had been photographed by David Bailey, dated 1970. I recognised the boy modelled on the dust jacket because I recall that one of Mike's favourite films was one that starred Bjorn entitled, Death in Venice. I just had to buy the book. 

I started to paint my own pictures using images of certain models that I found quite enticing and erotic. The painting you see above, left, with the peacock, I drew using Josh Eliot from Bel Ami studios as a model. The one to the left I drew inspiration from a cover of one of Ann Rice's novels. Still, I couldn't escape the all over cartoon themed art that I wished at the time I could just cast off. But it was all just so much play. And like the Chines ink drawings, it wasn't something that I took too seriously. And it felt good because I felt that I was no longer keeping anything  secret, and that I was no longer holding anything back either creatively or passionately.   

    

 

       

Trash Rising Part 3

Trash Rising Part 3
A Story by Scott W. Taylor


Last time on Trash Rising: Harold Zarkmann has taken possession of an ancient device capable of mutating every human being on Earth. The four archaeologists and their military escorts that were sent to the ruins to find the device have been captured, used as guinea pigs and have been mutated into creatures of unlimited power by an array of mystical mirrors. The mirrors were built by men thousands of years ago to metamorphose all who looked deep into their own reflections. Now Harold has designs on the entire planet, to transform all human life into mutants!

‘Oh no?’ Jay “Wheels” Malloy shot as the giant wheel he seemed caught in began to spin and rev. He no longer possessed legs, but this one wheel seemed to be his only means of generating motion.  Quickly, and without warning he sped towards Harold, knocking him off balance. The other mutations grabbed hold of Zarkmann’s arms and hurled him in front of the mirror’s reflection. The man looked up and watched his own transformation. And it was not a pretty sight. In a trice the man who was Harold Zarkmann was gone and his reflection stepped out from the confines of the mirror—changed!

‘Mr. Zarkmann?’ Bob and Goon, the two soldiers spoke in unison as the creature emerged from the mirror.

‘Harold Zarkmann is no more. There is only…Malice!’ announced the creature.

‘The satellites surrounding the earth are almost fully charged’ he added, approaching the controls that gave the energy readouts.

‘All I have to do is pull this leaver and all of humanity will join us in transformation!’

‘We have to do something’ Cinderella gestured to the screen and the image of the satellites.

‘Like what? We’re completely surrounded’ Commander Trash observed, with a measure of gloom.

‘That’s what they want us to think!’ “wheels” Malloy asserted, gritting his teeth. His wheel began to rev again. 

Without warning Malloy sped off and with the traction of his mighty wheel knocked each of the masked guards flying. One after the other the minions of Malice were sent hurtling in every direction.

   'You are too late, fool!' Malice cried as he pulled the lever. The satellites surrounding the Earth responded, extending their telescoping mirrors.  
  Instantly a bright light began to bathe the Earth. It was as if the sun had gone nova. It shone over the land and the oceans, almost blinding. Even on the other side of the world, the side that faced the moon presently, brightened and beamed with a magnificent glow. It was as if morning had come early.

Malice’s mirrors, connected to every satellite orbiting the planet began to immerse everything in a transforming light. It would happen slowly, but soon the world and all its human inhabitants would receive the same fate as the team of scientists.

‘We’re too late!’ Cinderella shouted, pointing at the viewer. ‘The satellites are active!’

‘Right’ Malice gloated. ‘The world shall know that revolution comes, not through action, but through reaction.’ 

‘That’s not how it works!’ argued Dirk. ‘Its through actions that real changes are made!’

Malice laughed, realising the irony of this statement.

‘If we had to wait for humanity to act instead of react, we would be waiting an eternity! To effect any change one must commit an act so unsettling, so unconscionable that the implications of it are enough to drive the people out of their lethargy! There is a reaction, yes?’

Indeed there was. The view screen showed images of London, then Paris, Moscow and New York. Everywhere was being affected. Change was something that was long overdue in Malice’s eyes. Those who were caught in the ever pervading light were starting to mutate, some much faster than others. 

‘See how easy it is?’ Malice revelled. ‘To change the hearts, the very mindsets of the people one must first create a schism, a split as it were between what the people have always perceived as their own self image, and what they are to become…and then burn all their bridges behind them so there is no turning back!’

The vile creature laughed malevolently as the heroes watched on helplessly.

Malice turned to the two soldiers known as Bob and Goon.

‘You two, my newest minions, you are both my foot soldiers now. Take the trash out. Take the prisoners to a cell…an unpleasant one! Make sure they are treated badly!’

‘yes, boss’ Goon answered, snapping into action.

‘Bob, Goon, what are you doing?’ their commander asked.

‘Just followin’ orders’ Bob said, pressing the barrel of his rifle in Commander Trash’s back.

‘You two jerks!’ Cinderella reacted, grabbing Bob’s rifle and yanking him sideways. Bob was sent hurtling into the path of his associate, Goon, and the two managed to end up on a heap on the floor.

Dirk Gumbo turned to Malice and added,

‘You’re next, chump!’ 

                            To Be Continued...

Trash Rising Part 2

Trash Rising Part 2
A story by Scott W. Taylor

Last time on The Totally Freaky Trash Commandos: The rich philanthropist, Harold Zarkmann has just aired the news that he intends to investigate an ancient temple in the Amazon rain forest. He has sent a team of archaeologists into the structure in the hopes of discovering ancient technologies that could be used to aid mankind, and solve many ecological problems.
   We left the archaeological team and their military escorts in a bit of a pickle, as they have inadvertently triggered a booby trap that has beamed them into a hitherto unexplored section of the temple. Commander Jonathon Trash has given the order to turn back...    

Though the order came too late. They soon discovered that their exit was blocked by a dozen or more soldiers, all wearing masks and of unknown origin. Each one was pointing a weapon at the team. 

The hooded soldier in the lead waved his gun, indicating to the prisoners to start moving in the direction signified.

The small party of scientists moved away from the wall. They were escorted down a long corridor to a room full of strange and alien devices.

‘What are you going to do with us?’ Cinderella asked.

‘Oh, just a little experiment’ came a familiar voice, a voice commander Trash knew well.

‘Harold Zarkmann?’ he stammered as he looked in the direction the voice had come from.

‘The same’ announced the man whose very fortune had funded this particular venture.

‘I want to thank you all’ Harold continued. ‘Without you fine people, all of this would not have been possible. You are to be the first…the first souls in over a thousand years to participate in the ultimate transformation.’

‘What is going on here?’ Cinderella demanded. ‘What are these creatures? And why are they pointing weapons at us?’

‘They are here to insure your obedience, my child. You are to be Guinea pigs in the greatest experiment of your lives!’

Before long the archaeologists and their military escorts were manacled and tied to a row of posts, and were left standing before a tall mirror. Each one caught their reflection, watching on in puzzlement as their parallel counterparts moved, seemingly taking on a life of their own.

‘What’s going on?’ Commander Jonathon Trash demanded while trying to pull himself free of his shackles.

Quickly, their reflections in the magic mirror started to undergo a staggering transformation.

Commander Trash’s reflection began to morph into something inhuman, insect-like with giant antennae that sprang from his head.

Jay Malloy watched on in disbelief as his reflection turned into something more akin to a hamster caught in the centre of a Ferris wheel. 

Dirk, Danny and Cinderella, all had the look of sheer horror on their faces as they witnessed their transformations in the strange mirror. 

Once the experiment was over, Harold Zarkmann smiled, gloating heavily on the expressions on the faces of his captors.

‘Magnificent aren’t they? They are your true selves, believe it or not. They reflect the true ugliness of the human animal. This which you see is but your inner state of being. And now all that is left to do is to erase your physical bodies and allow your true embodiments to take your place.’

Harold threw a switch and suddenly a bright light began to bathe the 6 hapless captives. An instant later and the 6 bodies vanished, vaporised in a second. The shackles that tethered their hands and feet to each post fell loosely to the ground. The room was empty apart from Harold Zarkmann and his hooded minions.

  It was at that appalling moment that the mirror’s reflections, still echoing the mutated images of the seven erased victims, began to stir. Suddenly, the reflection of Commander Trash began to ease his left arm through the confines of the looking glass. Another of the reflections did the same, instead though easing a leg through the glass, and then stepping down onto the dusty earth below.

The mirror images were starting to break out of their confines. It was as though they were coming to life. In fact, that is exactly what they were doing.

‘You’re trash!’ Harold beamed while he watched the strange, mutated beings emerge from the magic mirror.

‘What have you done to us?!’ begged the commander, looking down at his mutant hands.

‘I have helped you realise your true selves’ Harold replied, bursting into laughter. ‘You see, the ancient ones built all this technology.  They did not build it to produce a clean and sustainable planet, no, for they realised that such a goal was unreachable. They had polluted the planet so callously they finally realised that in order to continue their existence on a doomed world they had to transform themselves! They were turned into beings capable of living in oceans that had been polluted so badly. They became adaptable, walking upon the earth and were able to breathe in the toxic fumes. They became the creatures that crawl and scurry, the type we call vermin, and pests. We call them rats and cockroaches. Though they are the mutated results of a people that once, so long ago, decided to adapt and change, rather than admit extinction.

‘Soon however, the world began to erase all the harm they had done so long ago. Time cleansed this world, and its air, as well as its oceans. Modern man sprang up from the ashes, and soon began to fall into the same patterns: polluting the world again. Cities and skyscrapers rose up like endless towers of Babel. The oceans were once again under peril. Now it is time for the human race to again undergo a transformation. This mythical mirror which was created by the ancient Raetek—this technology which they built eons ago—has been reversed engineered in my factories. These mirrors have been fitted to satellites and are at this very moment positioned all around the globe. The whole human race will be transformed and the earth once again will undergo healing!’     

‘You’re mad!’ shot Cinderella.

‘I think not!’ Harold threw another switch. ‘Take a look at the screen. See the satellites in Earth’s orbit?’

A large view screen on the wall of the chamber came to life.

‘See them, they are powering up. In 10 minutes they will begin transforming the human race and there is not a damn thing any of you can do to stop it!’

                      

                             To Be Continued....

Trash Rising Part 1

Trash Rising
A story by Scott W. Taylor

Harold Zarkmann appeared at the head of the multitudes that had come to enjoy the famous Zarkmann Expo.  Millions of people, fellow supporters had turned up to listen to Harold speak about the environment and what he intended to do about the escalating problem.

‘Children of the Earth’ he announced as he stood behind the podium, ‘They say that there is eight million tons of plastic waste dumped in our oceans every year. Did you know that? That’s eight million metric tons a year! They have stated that by the year 2050, there will already be more refuse than fish and marine life in our oceans. Now, we all know that this has to stop. We are going to have to change our improvident ways. But we are all comfortable living a lie, aren’t we?  We are all guilty. We buy our processed goods from the supermarket. The plastic waste either gets thrown on the ground of our public parks, and recreational areas, and streets, or it is sent to landfills—same problem. I know from experience how wasteful we are. Like a favourite author once said, “Those who are wasteful   cannot   be   free.”  

Are we as a people  free? Hardly! Hence we live a lie. We squander our resources. We fritter away our very lives in the pursuit of consumer benefits, but are we truly free? Are we truly happy?’

Harold suddenly held up his hands.

‘No, no you don’t have to answer that question now. Just wait another 44 years and then answer that question. I think by then your children will be less willing to forgive our actions than Mother Nature at that point.

‘But I feel I have a responsibility, not just to the planet, but to our children. It is my hope that future generations will not look back upon their parents and think—what a bunch of extravagant, blind and uncompromising wastrels!’

Pressing a button on his remote control, Harold directed everyone’s attentions to the massive multi screen TV behind him.   

The images started to emerge on the feed, showing a vast rain forest.

“What you are seeing is a previously uncharted expanse of rain forest of the Amazon. Using satellite technology Zarkmann enterprises has discovered ruins, leading to an ancient culture that died out centuries before Christ. They were called The Raetek. It is written that these people possessed technologies far more advanced than our own, and had discovered how to use clean and efficient means to preserving their lifestyle, as well as their environment. With my financial backing I believe we could unearth enough knowledge to do the same, and to learn how to master our very environment without it being a detriment to said environment.   

‘Even as I speak there is a team of scientists combing the ruins of Raetek. We have already uncovered many artefacts that will one day aid our search for a cleaner means of living…

In the heart of the rain forest the team of scientist looked upon the vast and ancient structure that had stood for thousands of years, untouched by man.

‘This place still gives me the creeps’ stated Jay “wheels” Malloy, the fast talking member of the team, who was in charge of supplies.

‘It is magnificent’ retorted the team’s leader, Cinderella. ‘The problem with you, Malloy, you have no splendour in your soul.’

‘Come on you two’ ordered Jonathon Trash, the commander of the unit assigned to the team of scientists. ‘Knock it off; we have a job to do.’

The commander turned to Bob and Goon, the two brawny soldiers in his unit.

‘Bob, Goon, you two come with us. We are going to be entering the city’s treasury today, so keep your wits about you. There may be dangerous booby traps.’

‘I hope not’ uttered Danny Mult, the team’s leading linguist and historian. ‘I remember what happened the last time we enter a place like this…’ 

Entering, the team found themselves in a place of aged dwellings, and corridors that spanned for miles beneath the temple. Lit torches hung from sconces on the stone walls, and large webs hung from the low ceilings, caressing their faces as they travelled deeper into the structure.

‘We’ll soon be at the treasury’ Cinderella spoke to the others.

Soon enough, they were in a large space, a vast strong room full of treasures, not just gold and silver, but devices, and ancient tech that would provide them eventually with the means to change the world forever.

‘Try not to touch anything’ Cinderella ordered the others. ‘Today we are here only to catalogue what you see and report it back to camp.’

The entire team began to busy themselves. Bob and Goon just ambled about the room, scratching their heads. Then something caught Bob's interest: two golden sceptres or posts stood parallel, side by side. Upon the apex of the sceptres sat two snake heads with emerald gems for eyes.  

‘Maybe if we touched one of them…’ said Bob with excitement and dumb curiosity.

‘Yeah let’s!’ the other soldier exclaimed. ‘Maybe something will happen!’

Something did happen. The moment Bob placed his hand on the cobra sculpture the emerald eyes began to glow with a hideous green light. Before they realised what had happened, Bob, Goon, and the rest of the archaeological team had been mystically transported to another room.

‘Where are we?’ spoke Goon with a panicky shout.

‘You idiots!’ exclaimed Jonathan Trash, their commander.

‘I thought I told everyone not to touch anything!’ scolded the team leader.

‘Hey, you guys…come take a look at this’ Dirk Gumbo expressed with a certain measure of disbelief.

The other team members went to see what it was Dirk had found.

Upon the ancient wall was carved a message.

‘Any idea what it says?’ asked Cinderella. 

‘I can read some of it’ the chief linguist answered with a slight hesitation.

‘You have crossed the threshold, the mouth of…the portal to…the dimension of hell. He who speaks of…the end of times shall know changes…this hell on earth forever…This, which you have entered, is the world of Acheron?’

‘Acheron?’ uttered the commander. ‘I don’t know a lot about this sort of stuff…but that means hell, right?’

‘According to legend…? Yes’ confirmed Cinderella with a worried look on her face.

‘Alright’ the commander gestured to the twin sceptres. ‘Let’s find a way back.’

                     

                      To Be Continued....

Newspaper Comic Strips

There came a point where I thought, ah yes, why not try something simple. Maybe a three frame comic strip. For a time I turned my hand to creating simplistic designs for characters and placing them in funny situations. I think it was because I was going through a phase of reading Garfield the cat, and enjoying Jim Davis's sarcastic, lighthearted comedy on the funnies pages of the news paper, as well as the cartoon, Garfield and Friends, Orson's Farm and all that. Its what appealed to me at that time. 

This was my answer to the news paper comic strip. Simple humour added to which appeared to be a cartoon duck in a superhero costume and mask, made these even more fun to create. I really wanted to try something new, and the comic strip approach seemed the way to go. 

Also created Hero Hare and Rebel Rooster to add to the shenanigans.  

Thought they were good for a giggle or two. 

 Then the whole thing started to loose its initial appeal. I guess I wasn't happy with the thought of having to come up with something funny every day, and having to keep the ball rolling with it. In the end I reverted back to story telling. 

Though the humour was fun, the fear of keeping the same pace and being able to maintain and keep churning these out indefinitely gave me pause for concern. I wondered how the cartoonists who created such popular strips as Hagar the Horrible and Garfield the Cat managed to do it. In my opinion it would take a prolific amount of energy.     

So there's another venture that got scrapped before it ever got off the ground. To use a colourful expletive, Duck it! I'll try something else tomorrow. 

Vehicles and weapons

The Vehicles supplied to the Trash Commandos are quite unusual in design, and are measured only by the grotesqueness of the members that operate them. But the one who designs and builds them is probably just as odd looking. 
    The name of the engineer is Iggy Sanders as pictured below, and his fellow grease monkey, Sewer Spawn. 

Sewer Spawn and Iggy both work for 'a mutual beneficiary', a highly influential person in the military. Secretly, the duo trade weapons to the Trash Commandos. Sewer Spawn, seen below, is more hands on, while Iggy is the one usually sitting at the drawing board sketching up the latest in assault technology. 

                        










Here are just two of the vehicles they came up with...

First off, there's the Garbage Tank Mark 1.  A heavy duty vehicle designed for high speed chase. Missile launcher attached to the left side, as well as a front grill and bumper designed to grab bad guys and then spit them out on the road like so much ground bate. Gadgets galore! Can repel attacks from the rear with an instant oil  slick, banana peals, dense smoke, you name it. Those villains will be skidding all over the place before you can say 'sunday driver!!'        

Next is the Garbage Tank Mark 2. Much larger animal with tank treads and an on board command centre to coordinate attacks. This ones slower, but packs a wallop where its needed.   

   The dome is bullet proof. The Mark 2 is very much like the GT Mark 1 in that it is cybernetic, and not purely machine. Dragon sitting attop the dome is a fully integrated biological weapon that breaths fire and napalm at the enemy. The Biological visage attached to the front blows bubblegum at the attacker rendering him/her instantly inert. 

However, the Trash Commandos aren't the only ones to benefit from the arms trader's expertise. Iggy and Spawn have been known to unwittingly manufacture weapons for the other side. They also created The Cuttle Pod...

     
A particularly nasty piece of engineering to say the least. The Cuttle Pod is Major Malice's airborne base of operations. Armed with torpedoes and a dragon fly that sits upon a raised gantry that detaches, the Cuttle Pod squeezes its prey with forward tendrils that protrude from the front section. 

Lastly, there is Major Malice's Marauder Squalor Copter.

Helicopters with stings in their tails!

Major Malice's deadly arsenal were designed by Iggy, but were contracted to Zarkmann industries and as yet any intelligence concerning the connection between Harold Zarkmann and the terrorist, M. Malice has not yet been established.    

        

Thank you for reading and as always, please like and share :)