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BOOKS

available now!

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With €2 from each book sale going to SHELTER

The Bods  Save the bodleian Library, save the world

Wintershine - an advent adventure

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Enter the world of wintershine, an advent art book that takes you across the realms of midwinter each day on a quest to meet the yule lords.here you will meet strange folk and curious creatures as you travel the fimbule path and unfold the destiny that awaits you deep within the forests and fiefdoms, towers and tale-lands within the  realms of Yuletide

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AVAILABLE NOW!

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AN ILLUSTRATED NOVEL FROM THE STRANGE HEAD THAT BRINGS YOU GREENSPIKE

"Delighted to welcome them"
SIR PHILIP PULLMAN

get loads of curious stuff & scribbles from inside my head over on patreon

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new stuff, old stuff, never really finished stuff. what i do, why i do it, how i do it and all the bits in-between and over the edge!

you can get art prints of my stuff over at the

curious art prints    odd designs     peculiar tales     

give some art less ordinary
with a
greenspike giftcard

Welcome to Greenspike - the home for all of the strange stuff that falls out of my head.

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here you can find art prints to buy in The Curious Emporium,

as well as my series of Lyrical Prints - art posters inspired by my favourite band

(who also, by amazing coincidence happen to be the best band in the world) - The LEVELLERS

If you're interested in getting a Book Cover designed, delve within,

whilst  my strange design ideas are also available should you need a Logo or two.

along with all of this, we also have links to a few of my Tall Tales that come out in words

rather than pictures every now and again.

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If you're just here to have a look at the art, you're more than welcome - we'll see you in The Gallery!

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what in the world(s) is greenspike about, anyway!?

There has always seemed to be a tendency when drawing pixies, or fairies, or witches, or wizards, still to draw them in medieval, or Elizabethan dress, with corresponding world views (filtered, of course, through a Victorian puritanism). Based in pseudo feudal worlds, still stuffed full of old ideas about Princes saving and Princesses saved, of suspiciously European looking good folk and suspiciously none - European villains. I grew up devouring this stuff (and still love it, if now with a raised eyebrow and healthy warning system), but I also found other views within the fantasy I read and art I poured over. Le Guin and Vance and  Gaiman, Pratchett, and  Pullman and Winn Jones suggested not only that the Princesses and supposedly orphaned girls were fine (and probably far better at the saving bit in the first place), but that witches and travellers, and the ancient wise beings under the bridges, not to mention peoples with differing skin colours, and cultures, and ideas, were as rich in custom and magics, if not more so than High Elves and Kings, White Wizards and Noble Princes.

 

I eat up and breathe out the idea of myths alive now, walking in our world. Of sorcerers changing train timetables to suite their needs and Witches calling down the moon to prevent a chemical spill in town. Alchemists trade elixirs on eBay whilst Shadow Spiders sit in the darkest corners of their World Wide Webs. My pixies are still based deep in the ancient woodlands, they just wear converse. My shamans are more likely to ride a skateboard, rather than a horse (and they ALL listen and dance and sing to The Levellers - be quite sure of that). 

 

The artists I adore see things a little… differently. Moebius and his cities full of life and diversity, Chris Riddell, whose monsters have more humanity within the gleam of their eye than any Questing Knight. Charles Vess, with fox folk peering into magic wells and seeing skyscrapers… The ancient and the modern swirling around each other, dancing the oldest of jigs whilst adding new steps of their own.

 

So, here are a few scribbles and curiosities, oddities that have fallen from out of my head. I didn’t invent them, not really. They walk our pavements, and sleep in the doorways across the street. They sit in penthouse apartments plotting the next bank job with local Trickster Gods and ride the clouds in Driftships, smuggling skymead to the next Aetherport. 

 

In truth (or one of them - the Brass Homunculi, sipping thick dark coffee on his boat on the canal, holds the Punch Card Tarot close, and deals out the Pathways most sparingly) I only draw what’s there. Just out of the corner of my eye. Between the standing stones and the number 4 bus stop. The Gods and the Unseelie, the Meadow Mages and Hedge Shamans walk amongst us.

Keep your eyes open....

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