We used to do coke, drink pinot noir, talk about punk music and paint all night long. We talked so much and we painted so much and it was such a joy that we didn’t even find time for sex.

Our work:

The moment purpose and brush combined was the moment it started to be art.

While you were applying big blocks of colour to the top right and I was doing something more gestural to the left, at that point it was art.

When it was complete and propped up against the wall in yr bedroom it was STILL art.

But when we broke up and you left it propped against a wheelie bin, then it became trash, instantly. From art to trash in one gesture, and maybe thats more common than we care to admit. Art is trash, museums are cathedrals of trash. Maybe true art can only be found in the gutter.



Would people consume that?

Should people consume that?

These are two very different questions. Capitalism only ever asks the former. It is our job as artists to investigate the latter.

art #3

art creates illusory narratives, content, concepts, worlds

but they always remain illusory because the business

of making them concrete is not in art’s remit

now art fractures reality and reality fractures art