The canvas is becoming black, what does this mean to me?, this haunts me by night and day, in my nightmares and my waking hours, I see it constantly as if dark shutters have come down upon a view of an oasis. This darkness is the reality hiding behind the illusion of beauty, of colour, shape and form, I see this beauty fighting a losing battle that I witness for over four years, against the influence of darkness, I no longer have the creative strength to deny it's right to be seen, it must have it's time. A million miles away from beauty that inhabits my conscious and non-conscious mind, I must exorcise these infectious demons polluting my canvas of it's colour and beauty, controlled not by myself but the hand of this darkness. The negatives of stark reality where there is no utopian escape from this place until it's been and gone. This could be the end or maybe the beginning of the end, to continue is to give birth to these unbearable dark works. Darker than dark than one could possibly bare to view, to deny them is to deny myself art for the remainder of my life, they must be cast out before beauty ever can be seen again.. The Dark Works have arrived. Mega Zoom Version