A new group show I’m going to be in called “True Self” will be opening at Melbourne’s GPOand is crafted in collaboration with Jacky Winter Group,  Fabio Ongarato Design and Foolscap Studio, True Self will see MGPO’s first floor balcony transformed into a purpose-built gallery from June 1 to 24, 2012.

Should be fun to catch, myself and 51 other illustrators have collaborated together by starting one piece, then sending it on through the post to our nominated collaborator. I’ve been teamed up with Marc Martin & Ben Ashton-Bell. Hopefully they won’t hate me for what I did to their drawings.

More deets HERE!

You know you’ve made it when you have drawn a large pipe smoking sea captain with a bottle of “GHOST BEER” haunting his hat & shoulders. I’m the goddam king now.

$10 bucks peeps. Everything is getting updated, site, shop etc, so I need to clear this excess stock like a young liberal on a dancefloor. TO THE SHOP WITH THEE!

Some new gig posters for Montreal’s excellent The Besnard Lakes and Tennessee’s rocktastic Those Darlins’ via Manic Productions.

“Hug it out” was created for The State of Design Festivals’s “Home STREAT Home” exhibition. The subject of the work had to be based on… wait for it… HOME. Here’s the blurb that goes with it, be warned, I was feeling all melancholy when I did this, it may get a bit oopy doopy.

“Hug it out” is the moment when you are with that one person who’s embrace, smell, & touch gives you your sense of security. Who’s presence reminds you that you didn’t feel quite as safe or at home, when they weren’t around.”

See, told you.

Air Poetry Magazine is straight outta Kalamazoo, Michigan.. thats right Kalamazoo. I was asked to put together a illustration to accompany a poem to be published in their summer 2011 issue. Here’s the poem:

Her Bones Shrink and Radiate
My sister carries microwaves in her skullcap.
I’ve seen her chanting sonnets to the finches at her window, singing love-songs to her kitchen sink.
On Sundays, she serves bourbon to men with half-grown beards and measures the sound of lips meeting glass, folds napkins into feathered leaves.

Actually don’t know who the author is but I’ll take any chance I get to draw radioactive bar wenches forcing booze down a finches throat.

Latest gig poster for The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. Or TPOBPAH, as I call them.