Hello! (Please don't leave.)

I'm Martin Grubb and this is where the things in my head escape to.

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You can read some of my latest post below or use the navigation bar above to have a look round. I'm sure you know what to do.

Monsters and me

Update and new sketches

Hello.

I've gven the website a bit of an update. It's still a bit buggy and rather flawed but then so am I so I guess it's ok.

There's new drawings added to my sketchbook like the ones below that I'll be updating in the coming weeks.

I've also added my blog to the site which you can follow if you use Tumblr. grubbyarts.tumblr.com

What else have I be doing...? I'm working on a series of monster photography which will be expanding soon as well as a new story to go along with the project and as always I'm in the shop every day pretending to be a responsible adult.

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Kate and the Stickman

The barn that sat at the top of the hill on the other side of the meadow was a dark grey colour, faded in patches, the grain of the wood showing through. It hadn't been used in many years other than somewhere for Kate and her friends to play in when they were kids. On the door of the barn a stickman had been recently painted in whitewash. His legs and arms struck outwards as if he was doing a star jump and his head was a perfect circle. Two smaller circles with dots in the middle represented eyes and his straight-line mouth had two buck teeth protruding from beneath.

The Star Tree

Ren and Kuko lay on their backs beneath chequered blankets gazing up at the clear night sky. Ren and Kuko's favourite thing in the whole world was star gazing and every night Ren would visit Kuko and they would lie outside in the garden and stare upwards counting the stars and naming the constellations. Often they would make up their own by tracing invisible lines from star to star with their fingers and conjure up wonderful stories about how those constellations came to be.

The Voices

The Voices in my head.

The Voices begin with a capital letter. The Voices are not pets. The Voices are not my friends. The Voices do not surrender to me; my mind surrenders to them.

They have their own individual consciousness and they live inside me like parasites who feed on my experiences, feelings and thoughts.

Though they are individuals they are still part of me; influenced and evolved through all that I see and hear. They are parts of my soul; they are the collective of my mind. I am the vessel that carries them, I am their home.

The Sesame Street Story

Puppets. I have a story about puppets.

I forget which birthday it was. Somewhere in my late teens anyway. My friend bought me and a few others tickets to see a live show of Sesame Street at the Edinburgh Playhouse. Why, you may ask, would five grown men want to go and see a live Sesame Street show? Well I have to admit that, even though I don't touch the stuff now, at the time I was a stoner and liked nothing better that a few joints and an amusing episode of Sesame Street. And so we when the live show was announced around the time of my birthday, it was a no brainer.