The hour grows dark...

Imanpa, Northern Territory, Australia - March 2029

Empires die. Civilizations fall. Cultures fade and disappear. Mankind’s desire for the unattainable has always brought about its untimely end. Social and moral decay. Greed, depravity. Wealth, power and the waxing cold of hearts.

An agreement was made - globally - to change Humanity’s direction. One that favored those occupying the top tiers of society. They evacuated in secrecy, leaving the masses to fight against near impossible odds for survival. A truly hostile planet. Death’s new playground.


This was always coming.



Chimera

Killing Fields
A Scourge of Blasphemy
There is No God Here
The Haunted Lands


A new four-part painting series. October 2023.

"Perversion on the Land" - Final in the four-part series 'Embers' - Mixed media on plywood. My 130th painting.

 

“With liberty and justice for all - fucking hilarious! They sit on their thrones in black robes, high & mighty, doling out inequality by way of tilted laws upheld by stunted oaths and expect We the People to fall on our faces in reverence.

To fear them, obey them, worship them. No. The law’s been for sale from the beginning - The Golden Rule - he who has the gold can say fuck the rules. 

One more card up my sleeve.”  

“STOP! Get on the ground!”

Mariel had no intention of going quietly. She bolted from behind the dumpster - the chase was on - an officer bearing down in pursuit. 

She rounded the corner of the alley onto an unlit side street - shots fired. Two bullets in her direction, both finding flesh. One in her right shoulder - the other in her upper left thigh. She was down. 

“I got him! Off the alley on Mulberry.” the officer shouted into his walkie.

On the approach, weapon drawn and pointed, he saw the perp - lying still and quiet in the middle of that empty street. To his surprize - it was a female, twenty-four year-old Mariel. Her breath was rapid, bleeding at a good clip.

Two other officers arrive at the scene, guns in hand. They all three stand over Mariel, gazing down on this small, frightened creature. 

“I’m gonna radio for an ambulance, just relax and breathe.” says the first officer.

The second officer pulls him aside. The three of them have a word several feet away.

“She’s cute. Why don’t you hold off on that call. She’s not in too bad a shape. Maybe we can have some fun first?” he offers, breaking into a sickly grin.

They all agree, then return to the suspect.

“Get her in the backseat.” the third officer says.

Mariel slowly raises her hands.

“Wait, wait.” she says in a raspy whisper.

Her left hand moves towards her chest.

“Put your hands down.” the first officer demands.

“No, please. Please.” she appeals, tears present. 

Her hand slides into her jacket, there’s a gentle tug before slowly returning into view - clasped shut.

“Ma’am, what’s in your hand?” the officer asks, pointing his weapon once more.

She coughs, then raises her arm - revealing her treasure. It was a cotton string - with five grenade pins attached. Her devilish smile iced the cake.

“Grenade!!” yelled the officer.

Mariel and the three pigs left this world only seconds before the charges went off in the court house. The blast shook the ground for blocks. The smell of burning plastic dominated the air - black clouds of smoke billowing violently. Her work was done. 

It was the largest explosion in Waterloo’s history.

"Take This, My Very Blood" - Third in the four-part series 'Embers' - Mixed media on plywood. My 129th painting.

 

“A cancer upon the Earth. The very foundation of banking is to hold the people hostage. To ransom their lives, their futures for the greed and lust for power of a small percentage of dishonorable men. Leveraging decent, hard-working people into servitude and eventual ruin with a single keystroke. Foreclosing on the existence of millions. Nothing more than government-sanctioned organized crime.

It’s time somebody hit back.” 

This job called for more than her usual matches and gasoline, so Mariel had to reach out to a couple friends in interesting places. There were two objectives: First - to send a message. Second - to not leave one brick standing. Which explains the need for a few packs of C-4. Bank vaults don’t just blow themselves up. 

This was the big leagues.

Cursed is the Ground - Second in the four-part series 'Embers' - Mixed media on plywood. My 128th painting.

The church had always been a sore point with Mariel. Being forcibly baptized at the age of nine went a long way towards cementing her hatred of cult behavior. But it was the overall presence of such a dangerous entity that hit her where she lived. One on every corner. Reducing people to herd animals - the Lord’s flock. Lining up for their weekly fleecing. A fool and their money…

“The poison peddled here, it’s truly an abomination to all things sacred. Religion - the surest path away from God. And these motherfuckers are cashing in on every aspect of the brainwash. Get ‘em when they’re young and they’re yours forever. Sick fucks. Lies are their weapons. Guilt, shame and fear is the ammo - with the innocent and gullible in the cross-hairs. 

If I could, I’d burn this whorehouse down twice.”