I hope you like the paintings I've made!
I've always been into art, since I was very young. My mother still has a small drawing I made when I was four, of a couple on a beach, standing and watching the sunset. I must remember to photograph that and upload it.
But the following eighteen pieces were made after a quite long hiatus from art, that ended in my early twenties. Really, I only got back into painting once I was first sectioned, and that was at a time when I was surprised if I could create anything of value whatever. When I realised I loved to paint, I painted more than I ever had. Usually I decide to paint something when the seasons change. Not always. Maybe two or three times a year. This is a selection of my abstract watercolours, not necessarily in chronological order.
Consciousness is a fascinating feature of life. I've not always understood it in the way in which I tried to describe it with this piece, which is a simplistic representation of the phenomenon. The eye is everyone's eye, and the sun is everything anyone can look at - a cup, a tree, the television... the sun... My mother owns this painting, and she keeps it upside down on the wall. I don't know exactly why.
This painting of my mother and father was actually copied from a selfie taken by Fred in Samoa, before taking selfies was a thing. They own this painting too, my parents. Although it's not the most accomplished work I've ever done (the red on mum's face isn't quite right), I still think it has a nice romantic quality. The original photograph is stunning.
Focal points are a big theme for me, and in fact very much so for this work. The idea is that the King of Change's eyes are central, and the viewer is meant to glean something in virtue of the surrounding shields that decorate the four corners - the elements: Earth, Wind, Fire and Water. That's about it.
I gave this experimental sketch as a gift to writer and director Armando Iannucci, when I met him at a book signing in Tottenham Court Road. I said, "Do you like it?" He said, "Yes! Does it have any meaning?" I said, "It's filled with symbolic representation!" But I admitted it's not my best work.
I gave this painting as a gift to my mother. Actually, she owns fifty percent of all my art and keeps them on the walls of her home. The Crazy Monster doesn't really have any meaning, although it's really only supposed to be a study in colour. The monster has a Two Five Burn pendant around his neck.
I drew "Bubble Brains" in a mental hospital in Harrow. My mum loves this one, and thinks the women are nurses. It's definitely a comment on the female effect upon men. I was a little psychotic when I drew it.
This was one I began before my fated introduction to antipsychotics, and I remember finding it a great shame that I hadn't finished it before then. But, with the picture half-done, I looked at it and tried my utmost to regain some of that lost insight. There's something incredible about a night of painting, and I was happy enough to complete this abstract sketch of men lost at sea.
Honestly, I have no idea what was going on in my mind when I painted this one. But it's a fun one, don't you think? I suppose I was just playing around with colours, and there's that "central point" theme going on in it. My mum likes it anyway, and it stays on her wall at home, going up the staircase.
After gifting her the painting "Consciousness", my mother kept pestering me that I paint her something with a tree in it. So I did! She was very pleased with it (I believe it's her favourite of mine), although she couldn't understand why I added the two kids playing in the forest. Actually the reason is that those two kids are supposed to be me and a friend on LSD in Arandene woods! There's a central point theme here, for sure - I just love that theme - and also here are pathways leading off in deep directions, to represent the craziness of the trip. In fact, when I'd done this one I wondered if it looked rushed, and then my dad confirmed that thought when he said, "You shouldn't rush your paintings!" Well, it looks good on the wall in my parents living room.
A friend of mine showed this one to his artist friend who said he'd never seen colours like it. Well, what a lovely thing to say! Anyway, it's the cover art for Two Five Burn's album "Prefrontal Vortex". Some say it reminds them of lungs, some say a dick... me, I think it looks like a brain.
Corona was done in late 2023. It was a continuation of a previous sketch I'd had planned, but it didn't turn out that way. I wanted it to be very detailed. A friend of mine called it "visceral", and although they like the big feet there, they seem to find the whole thing quite scary. Oh well!
Drawn during a period of great artist creativity, this one's just a sketch of an alien babe. That's it!
Running Dog is just a simple painting of a dog booting it over a field. I think this was one of some three or four different images I painted in one week. Another one was a picture of a technicoloured human caterpillar, which I gifted to a friend who says she lost it.
This is basically a painting of the estate where I live. Well, the bus stop nearby... Like many others, it was a gift for my mother on her birthday, and it's on the wall in the back room.
Like many others of mine, this image was from a dream. I have these really vivid dreams - sometimes lucid - like entire movies with storylines and characters. I suppose many do. But sometimes I have to get up and draw the thing, and this one's the story of that dream. It starts on the left hand top corner, and sweeps round until we reach the character with six arms comforting their children. This one got some 800 upvotes on subreddit, which I was pleased with.
I find this sketch quite funny. The oversized mouse, called Abraham, is overlooking an expanse from atop a mountain, and saying "Behold...!!" But the dog mocks the dude, with some sort of inside knowledge. Or something. I dunno.
This is the album cover for "Two Five Burn (self-titled)", and it's just some old man crying tears of joy with all these thoughts and images coming off his head. I used to keep it on my bathroom wall, but the frame was smashed, and now I don't know where it is. I'll find it.
The World of Daniel Best - My art