The Call Of Cthulhu

A little bit of deep sea dark magic for you.

I like the idea of this as a piece of street art here in Dunedin, but it might be a little too creepy!

I’ve long been a fan of Cthulhu and I love the “flowery” language that HP Lovecraft uses in his stories.

A long time ago I used to make music under the name Sharkweek, here’s a very homemade video for my song “The Life Of R’lyeh” which uses dialogue from the original Call of Cthulhu story.

Steampunk Riverboats

A couple of heavy metal misfits last seen lurking down by the river.

This was my one of my entries for a competition for a commission to create a mural on a large metal box owned by Chorus, the phone company. Unfortunately it was not a winning entry but I’m still proud of the piece.

It’s probably a good thing that it wasn’t successful – Chorus required that the design be painted onto the box and trying to reproduce this with paint would certainly have been a challenge!

Alternative History Of New Zealand

The facts of New Zealand history, with a healthy dose of fiction thrown in for good measure.

For example, wine is produced in the north of the country, and Wellington has a well-known coffee culture. Tobacco is produced near the top of the South Island, giant squid really do lurk off the east coast, and Dunedin is known for its music.

But Hannibal never crossed the Southern Alps and Jesus never wandered around Northland. Also, for those of you who don’t already know, kiwi aren’t really that large!

What’s On The End Of Your Fork?

Strange goings-on at the far edge of the galaxy.

Title inspired by William S Burroughs infamous novel ‘Naked Lunch’.

Burroughs states in his introduction that Jack Kerouac suggested the title. “The title means exactly what the words say: naked lunch, a frozen moment when everyone sees what is on the end of every fork.”

In The Morning Of The Magicians

Another of what I have come to think of as my “obituary pieces” – those that I would be happy to appear next to my death notice.

Of course I don’t plan to die anytime soon but it’s comforting to know I have a body of great work to leave behind.

This piece owes its impact to Gustave Dore‘s fantastic sea creature. The look on its face seems to say “who are these tiny people and what are they doing in my city?”, in delicious contrast to the people who seem so blase about the seething mass of monsters lurching towards them.