stunted, minimal site update

A delayed addition to the 2014 gallery section…


Something About the Grass Always Being Greener
oil and ink on canvas
36″ x 36″

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mailbagg: Candice Tripp x 6 year olds

The Devil and words from the Children


I’ve received some really incredible gifts and oddities over the years, but the box I opened from Adam this afternoon knocked me full-on legit speechless for at least a few minutes. I’m a nervous talker, so running out of sounds to make is a rare occurrence. I can’t really remember the last time I was rendered mute.

It contained a beautifully made devil-come-jackal marionette and the evidence of some character probing done behind my back under the casual scrutiny of a class of 6 year olds attached to a clipboard.

I can’t believe how cool this is. Thank you Adam x This is so much better some some poxy house painting. You win at gifts.

(Sammy is my favourite)

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10


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Opening February 22nd; 20 years under the influence of JUXTAPOZ

I’m excited about this.

Curated by Gary Pressman of Corpro Gallery and Andrew Hosner of Thinkspace, ’20 Years Under the Influence of JUXTAPOZ’ is a group show celebrating exactly what it says on the tin.

Opens Feb 22nd – April 19th at LAMAG; Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery
4800 Hollywood Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90027
To attend the opening, please email

Submit full names and get there as close to the opening at 6:00PM to assure entrance since the museum can only admit to capacity.

My piece;

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Marcie, Frank, Jacob and some dead-O’s


When Marcie went over the whole town was quietly relieved.


They were royals, but nobody cares


Jacob got out in perfect time


Frank: Sad because he lost his lunch

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studio sale

studio sale

Over the next week I’ll be adding new and old work to my big cartel shop.  Varied mediums and sizes. No previews on this occasion, I’m just jumping in- the content on my instagram feed is more or less what you’ll find, along with a few unseens.

It feels fucking crass doing this while my cat, my best guy, my fuzzy son has been missing for 5 days. I can’t yet tell whether the shame of assuming ‘business as usual’ is warranted or absurd. I’m coming down on both sides of that fence and it feels just like a wooden post in the pants. Ideal Brown and I have delivered 500 flyers and have ordered 500 more. I’ve contacted vets, schools, shelters, charities and visited our old place daily. I’ve spoken to builders, kids and moms. I’ve begged twitter and grovelled for retweets and facebook shares.  If you think me a fool, don’t worry; I agree with you 100%. I’ve hung up his blanket and parked an old suitcase in the back yard in the hope that he catches the scent. I walk around and whistle until I run out of puff. I’ve received calls from strangers, texts and emails of advice and support from friends as well as people I’ve never met and it’s frankly heartwarming that so many people care. I appreciate it more than I can say. Thank you to everyone who has helped. If I stop too long and actually think about what’s going on, I lapse into panic mode so I appreciate all the voices who have interrupted that with positivity.


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Flesh cat in acrylic gouache

I think that when I was investigating acrylic gouache colour, I might’ve been taken in by the Japanesque range from Turner. In fact, I’m sure of it.

I detest acrylic, but then I do most mediums that I can’t ‘master’. Master…what a loose word. I consider myself a master at nothing but eating and breathing. Most days I can barely put one foot in front of the other.

Anyway, I’m learning, through flesh cats.

flesh cat

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February News!

My first etching goes on sale tomorrow!
“I’m Coming Back Tomorrow To Look For More”
limited edition of 25
64.5cm x 70cm (inc border)
Somerset radiant white velvet 330gsm
Available Feb 5th from Black Rat Projects 11am GMT


I’m very pleased to say that I’ll have a new painting (above) in ’20 Years Under The Influence of Juxtapoz’ at the Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery. The group show, which has been guest curated by Gary Pressman and Andrew Hosner, opens Feb 22.

Their Apparent Sense of Purpose Caused in Her an Uncharacteristic Moment of Restraint
30″ x 30″
oil and ink on canvas


My latest Horror House;
IT’ Sewer: The Barrens, Derry.

Please feel free to get in touch to discuss any Horror House commission ideas.

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I had the good fortune to get away for two weeks

I returned home expecting the cloud of concern and disquiet of last year to have dissipated, restoring me to my regular excited-and-anxious-about-everything self, but instead I came home caring less about the need to worry.

My bucket ‘o good ideas is as empty as it ever was, save for that one now-shrivelled nugget that was left out too long in the sun.

Unrelated: If I started writing about Thailand, I’d never stop, despite the fact that it’s a topic already thoroughly covered on every bored, single, white girl’s blog. Don’t worry; the last thing I’m looking for on holiday is ‘myself’. We went to a goddamn sky bar and loved it, for fuckssake.

I can see the appeal of becoming a travel writer. One of the safe ones that doesn’t deal with the things you can’t un-see that clash with your Western ideals. No bags of live [___] or small cages stuffed with [___] or all those godforsaken, begging amputees.



Night flower market, Bangkok

Night flower market, Bangkok

Night flower market, Bangkok



Temple monkey Bangkok

New Year Marigolds, Bangkok


China Town, Bangkok

Candice Tripp Jamie Brown

Bangkok New Year Sky Bar

Chumphon night market

Koh Mook Coco Lodge

Koh Muk

Koh Phi Phi

Baby Rasta, Koh Tao

Baby Rasta, Koh Tao

Koh Tao

Koh Tao

Wet market, Trang

Trang bird

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Ideal Brown says “hey” on messenger and I elect to wait 2 minutes before responding so I can go to the loo and wash the powdered charcoal off my fingers after breaking open three capsules to take with water owing to the fact that my gut has bloated beyond reasonable boundaries, forcing me to sit with my jeans undone while I work.

So that’s me, with a chronically embarrassing stomach navigating the halls of the building with black shit all over my mouth and hands with my pants undone and who cares because it’s just another Tuesday night and lets not pretend that my wearing shoes and socks at the same time isn’t a notable leap of common decency.

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When you’re self employed

How many times a year can you reasonably decide you’re so tired that you need to nap?

I don’t mean deserve a nap, I mean the-walls-are-trembling-jelly-and-there’s-lemon-juice-in-your-eyes NEED a nap.

Like accidentally die in a house fire you started sort of tired.

My FIND YOUR OWN MONEY full timer four-year anniversary was yesterday (pop the champagne- I’ve not yet signed on) and I’ve taken 3 at-work naps in that time. I know because my guilt-meter is sensitive. The most recent ended about 39 minutes ago and I feel filthy for it.

The other two times I thought I was coming down with something and was only right once, which is awful because the justification and mild self pity smooths out all the wrinkles.

I don’t know why I feel bad, because I remember the build up to each show like the pain of an injury. I’ve suffered some serious stress related accelerated ageing to my eyes and hands and it totally matters to me. The line is usually ‘I don’t know where my next salary will come from, but I love every second of my job’ which is funny only when I sit back and consider the toll my face is taking for all this love. FUCK.

Maybe it’s all this being alone for 11 hours of the day nonsense. Maybe I need a fresh deadline. Maybe I need my fear back. Maybe I should check my bank acco- okay, I’m awake.

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