Teresa

Stephen

Steph

Simon

Rahui

Ollie

Luke

Liz

Kenny

Joni

Jizz

James

Greg

George

Weiner

Christina

Brooke

Amy

New mural

This is a new mural I painted for a creche my friend works at.

Check out my listings on trademe.

I am selling some work on trademe as I can no longer fit it inside my house.

Wanda

Travis

Tonya

Sarah-Beth

Myrtle

Mary

Herman

Helga

Eugene

Davey

Brad

Haunted crack den

Young Women Nabbed In Bloody Satanic Sex Ritual

Mum

Colin Mathura-Jeffree

Black beauty

The Moist

An enjoyable art film for the whole family.

Reader's Wives

We made a film and after it was played the presenter said it was the most disgusting and offensive entry he had witnessed in his eight years of being a part of the competition. Victory? I think so! This is a proud day…

Renegade House Interview

Rex Manning

Rugged

An attempt at the boss proves my heart is more aligned with Pacino.

Specs Appeal

Spring fling

Twee times on the first day of spring.

Agentinian Playboy, Unexpected Lovechild

"Discreet Young Lover", "The Daring Twin", “The Ruthless Magnate’s Virgin Mistress”,“Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded”, “Big Spankable Asses”, “A Mother In the Making” and my personal favourite, "Agentinian Playboy, Unexpected Lovechild". After delving into such delights for Erogenous Tones, I thought it was high time I tried to transfer some of the hunk riddled sensuality from the pages of soft core to the pages of my sketch pad...

Cheryl

Tinku festival 2010

I heard about the Tinku festival from a friend of a friend of a friend, who had the information passed down through a girl who had experienced the festival firsthand the year before. The premise of the Tinku festival is for all the neighbouring tribes to meet and partake in a traditional cultural exchange through music, dance and fair fighting. Alcohol and human blood are spilled to placate pachamama, mother earth, to promote a healthy future harvest and to settle small disputes that annually arise in the community. This is why three pasty gringas travelled from various parts of South America to meet in Potosi, Bolivia. The highest city in the world at 4500m above sea level and home to the silver mines where over 8 million workers have died since 1550. So after tentatively waiting for our friend Ngaire to conquer the treacherous crossing from Argentina, we set out with our tour guides General and Veronica to Macha, a tiny little village in the mountains set amongst gorgeous alien landscape.
This is of course after trekking three km to our ¨private¨ bus and waiting for several hours trying to make small talk with an uncharismatic French Canadian on the 5 hour bus journey whilst trying to resist the urge to vomit. Needless to say I was driven to drink once we arrived at our motel. First rule of Tinku, you must have a drink in your hand at all times. But do not make the common mistake of drinking the local Ceibol, a potent tipple at 98% alcohol. Needless to say I was not the only person put to bed at 9pm on the first night.
Day two was when things really started getting hairy. All the different tribes from the neighbouring regions marched whilst aggressively pan piping donning traditional attire, which usually consists of decorative multi-coloured socks, bells, feathered helmets reminiscent of the conquistadors and a mandatory panpipe. One group even had an enormous pig. The pig was terrified but the people were enamoured so once they entered the square, babe the gallant beast managed to escape squealing down an alleyway. Once the groups made their entrance they would form into a group where a cholita (traditional country lass) would wave a white flag and the group would form around her to dance, which resembled an enthusiastic stomp.
Interestingly there were groups who deviated from the norm of two hundred people and ran about in groups of four or five. We did not fancy their chances. The music consisted of a traditional guitar and the pan flute, which literally played one short tune on high repeat for 3 days. Expect the drum and bass remix to come out next month. Then the fighting really commenced, an alcohol infused knock to the side of the head was an introduction to the combat, but events degenerated into chaos with all out brawls erupting with the only logical solution, teargas. Rock fights then broke out so we ran to our refuge behind a corrugated iron wall, which unfortunately did not protect us from the constant tear gassing and threat of a rock to the head. We decided it would be wise to climb a narrow and treacherous bell tower watch from above and try to get some scope on the madness that unfolded below. It was one of the most incredible and hideous things I have witnessed, and I truly felt guilt to being witness to something that although was so foreign to us gringos, was such an integral part to an ancient custom. The fact that it had been so despoiled by alcohol only added to the general mood. We were the tiny minority and our mere presence felt like an assault on the culture. One friend in our group was exceptionally tall and blond and was propositioned to fight at least thirty times. Our noses bled for weeks.

Mavis

Ice ice baby

Rose of Trailee

Roid rage

Hand job

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Fun loving characters

A Peruvian gentleman donning his traditional bowler hat. Which makes me suspect this may actually be a gentlewoman.


This fine fellow we encountered at 9am in the fine township of Macha, Bolivia during the Tinku festival. He was possibly the most terrifyingly inebreated person we had ever encountered, who is now etched into my nightmares...

Mary, the autumn years