A writer lives somewhere within his loud and heavy conscience, attempting to filter out his purified thoughts and leave all others inside to reside. And really, there is no better high than the rare occasion of easily doing so. Still, his need to transfer thought and feeling in a most profound manner and overcome perfectionism is, realistically, his job title. And thus presents the ground of which inspired my preceding subject, British-bred artist Alex Daw.
From what I pick up on, Daw too is a thinker; However, his hand performs a different art, and this, I can not help but envy. Using magazine clippings and paint, Daw devises spectacular calamities usually surrounding colorful figures of or resembling humans. In all truthfulness, the message within (if any) is beyond me; hence, my reason to be intrigued.
I took a liking to him immediately upon viewing his art. In fact, I felt an understood kinship between us. As a writer, I valued to his absent-sounded loudness. I related to his spewing of thought onto paper, regardless of any sense from it being made. Although the mediums in which we utilize are two very different, their roots are so very similar: inspired by the abstract and open to all for interpretation. Through my eyes, Alex Daw’s incomprehensibility is what makes him outspoken. As the remainder of interpretation henceforth falls to you, in accordance with me or not, I warn you to proceed with caution. For, the mind of an artist is a damned force that will never rest unreckoned.