Shotgun. 1993
Acrylic on Hardboard 400mm high x 600mm wide (16" x 24")
This is the way to do dope. The only way. Ian reverses the joint he's smoking, putting the flaming end into his mouth, and slams the other end into mine!!.
Front face, Dan looks straight at you on the left side of my painting, with the total blue eyed confidence of a man who buys dope from whatever semi-dubious supplier he has to deal with. Ruthlessly I ignore the high school art stuff that says you must paint the shoulders, and arms that are between two men in a hug. More self consciously I paint my head turned sideways into his. On my left where my ear is, you glimpse endless bits of bluey yellow plastic tubing that feed sound from the microphone at the front of my hearing aid to inside my skull with whining resentment. It's just the way hearing aids are. They do hugs, laughter, eating badly.
The world doesn't blast open. I've got to find how to paint our scratchy chins welded together with our shotgun. I've got smoke and flames whooshing out where my lips are.
When I finish my painting, he tells our friend Craig "Fergus has done an erotic painting of me.