Category: sculpture

  • war machine

    war machine

    When lore warrants war, I’m slathering gore. Scarlet from depths, to surface and shore. Bloodied waves crashing, snuffed thrashings my score. Even the devil will flee from my roar.

  • holier than thou

    holier than thou

    Lost are those who know no bounds. Held prisoner by their open grounds. No loyalties held in their demeanour; No fence to make their grass seem greener. Just endless rounds for leaps and bounds, transcending time, and light and sounds…

  • 99 bottles of beer on the wall

    99 bottles of beer on the wall

    The ebb and flow, of high and low; About an orbit cast by death and grow. Within the vastness does the nomad go: Atop a deepest storm, their vessel row. The speeds of time hold knowledge slow: A future-past of blissful woe.  Beyond the darkness will the auras glow. Before the bellow sounds, the deafened…

  • 66 the devils advocate

    66 the devils advocate

    Can you hear the beckoned call? The whispers woven through the sprawl. The sirens screech succumb your thrall. The shortening: of what stood tall. And then you taste the blissful fall; Within it winds a drunken drawl. A darkness drains your light in all: And with it earnt a rancid haul…

  • rock paper scissors

    rock paper scissors

    This object is a trident of the elements that control society.  Rock represents Community, a crowd of raised fists.   Paper represents Dogma, the shroud that guides them.  Scissors represents Technology, which endows them with tools.

  • index

    index

    This canon round holds a 1/1 brass carving of the artists right index finger as a projectile. The artist felt it necessary to achieve the immense 1.6 million data-points of accuracy to reinforce its message “الله أكبر“

  • cleave

    cleave

    Ode to you, thine heathen path. Whose lanes transgress and end with wrath. Along your trek, seeds sown root deep. Then blossom into a monstrous reap. Lost are those who you mislead.Your toll they pay in evil deeds. They walk upon your filthy track. Yet wonder why their soles turn black.

  • vice

    vice

    You’re broken, shattered into a million parts. To fix you I sifted through the shards: got cut, but still managed to piece together a token heart. Assembled what was once dismembered, now it resembles but does not beat. Closed eyes that do not sleep but instead weep like the WROKEN vessel that you are. You…

  • old news

    old news

    6277 pages of newspaper collected, cut and assembled in London Greenwich during the first Covid pandemic lockdown.

  • Qyām

    Qyām

  • fulcrum i2

    fulcrum i2

  • fulcrum i1

    fulcrum i1