Gallery and gonzo interview from the fever dreams of  a drugless mind

+++ Chris Mars (USA), Seth Siro Anton (GRE), John Santerinerros (USA), Absumaniac (Poland)

INSIDE artzine #18, dark art magazine, H.R. Giger, Chris Mars, Seth Siro Anton

richard A. Kirk, black and white drawing, dark art

“There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion” Sir Frances Bacon, Of Beauty, Essays” 1625

When, finally, I felt strong enough to open my tired eyes completely I realized I wasn’t alone. Not very far away from me, there was an inconspicuous guy in white clothes sitting huddled in the corner, drawing on the wall with a black pen. A black-and-white flood of details arose behind him, like the arms of a naked, dancing octopus. All over the windowless walls, the inaccessible ceiling, the pristine-white PVC floor, up my legs, and out into the crowded, dysfunctional universe of a world without brains. And the things that trickled onto my tense retinas really frightened me. ME! A human-looking bird skull which was entwined with sly, plant-like vines. Swollen flowers, their delicate heads bent into the urinary puddle of daze. Thin skulls, filled with empty eyes. Mouldy mushrooms on seething bodies. Dumb figures in poisonous flower meadows. A woman like weaved of chlorophyll. Spiky insect arms, spindly child legs, torn skin, proliferating, sprawling, weird. And all that in such an obsessive, nightmarish wealth of detail that you had to gasp heavily.

Richard A. Kirk, black and white drawing, dark art

“If you want me to help you, you have to talk to me.” His voice made me wince like a pig at the
butcher’s. I heaved my skull but couldn’t see very much because of all that drool and snot. All I could do was hissing, “… call my lawyer then, asshole!” His pen continued scratching on the wall while he talked to me, “Nobody is here without a reason…” His voice sounded polite and bored, but between his words I could perceive something powerful, something freaky. Something authoritative. I could feel the taste of burning styrofoam trickle into my thoughts: “Who the fuck are you?”
„I am Richard Kirk, a 59-year-old artist – illustrator born in Hull, England in 1962. I grew up in a small industrial city in Ontario, Canada. I’m a draughtsman by nature and the vast majority of my artistic production is done in ink. I also work in silverpoint, a technique with its own special challenges. My choice of technique and subject matter compliment each other. The images come from my imagination, and I represent them in naturalistically, drawing much inspiration from form found in nature. My art explores natural processes. This interest is the focus of my work that lies beneath the narrative: decay, transformation, growth, evolution, and dissolution. My work is frequently described as organic. I am the owner of Pekoe the wonder-dog.“

I stared on the floor in front of me, my balls dug into the ice field. Directly from under my fastened feet, a
walking beetle wriggled itself out which had strange mush-rooms on its head
growing into its mouth. The floor was completely full with his drawings. They seemed to creep towards me and invade through my soles into my skin. It was itching terribly. I wondered whether I should ask him. Beg him. To unfasten me. Or at least scratching me. But then I preferred him staying in his corner. “Eh mate, you’re
frightening me. I really don’t want to know where do you get your ideas…”
His voice sounded as comfy as HAL9000 now: „Nature provides me with a lot of inspiration, as does literature, but it helps to be open to many things. Ultimately, when I sit down to draw I’m not that conscious of external inspiration… ”


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