A leering moon hovers above the cliff edge. Death, transported on dank thermals of fetid expirations from the orgiastic congregation below, looks longingly up at her naked surprise. There were no stars that night… only an ugly curling mist that rose in a column like a huge, deformed spectral penis made of entwined limbs and viscous discharge.

I found an old sketch from back in the day and decided to ink it in….

A eulogy to madness, piety, bravery, resistance under persecution and all martyrdom that elevates the human soul to a higher plane of reality.

More thrash-metal, beer chugging, flesh ripping, acid soaked mayhem for ya… This piece was done just to give an example of my poster/cover art style to any and all interested bands/promoters at the time (2001 - 2012-ish)…

Influences include: Beatlejuice (the movie), (The) Accused, Darkthrone, Dr Know, Abscess, Slaughter (Can), Sodom, Destruction, Discharge, Broken Bones, Sarcophago, Divine Eve, Nunslaughter, DRI, Corrosion of Conformity, Population Reduction, Sadus, Isengard, Aura Noir and many, many others…. not forgetting a plethora of Japanese and South American bands, too numerous to mention… “Let the streets burn!”

An inspired, automatic drawing that was reworked in chaos ritual to venerate the TransYuggothian gnostic transmittors of the void. Intense meditation will yield intriguing results…

Another sample from the vaults which depicts the insanity of modern, organized religion. Temple, church, mosque and synagogue, all have been implicated in the exercise and cover-up of the very “moral”, “ethical” crimes they purport to be a bulwark against. Degeneracy on all levels has been uncovered by the alternative and mainstream media alike… there is nowhere they can hide. Torture, rape, larceny and extortion… mind control, war and corruption. Religion in both its radical and conservative forms is nothing but the tool of forces that are far from divine.

An oldie but goodie from the dust ridden, worm infested archive, deep in the vaults of P’Na’ath… Around 2002, I had done a few bits of cover art for bands and thought it might be a good idea to set up a shop… the meme remained a dream unfortunately, but life, with its twists and its turns, seems to have returned my magical boomerang, thus proving that you never know what the ol’ gods have in store for such witless fools!

Album cover artwork I did for my friends Taman Shud, a blinding darkwave/post-rock/alt-noise kinda groove… The title of the album is “Oracle War” out on Trashmouth Records. The band themselves are fellow chaos magicians and were involved in a series of workings intended to make contact with praeterhuman or extraterrestrial entities. The resulting musical compositions and lyrical additions were made as a record of the successful completion of this mission. I was contacted by the band who already knew of my convergent interests and asked if I would be a channel for the accompanying visual imagery… Of course I agreed, and what you see before you is the end product of my traffic with the trench arcana of lost civilisations, an underwater exequy for the magi of a sunken world.

Album cover artwork I did for my friends Taman Shud, a blinding darkwave/post-rock/alt-noise kinda groove… Here you can see the bespoke calligraphy and sigilization for the back cover.

Yes, like many young occultists searching for inspiration, validation and reciprocation, I too was at one time impressed by the writings of the notorious Aliester Crowley and his “cult of Thelema”, so much so that I actually joined the O.T.O. Far from consolidating my resolve and bolstering my interest and understanding of the subject matter, my experience with meeting and interacting with other so called “Thelemites” was enough to sour my view of the order and I rapidly became more and more cynical with regard towards all forms of organized occultism/religion. Not cynical enough to prevent me from trying it again years later with a different order, only to learn the same lessons in a different context and social setting. This was very important in building up my self esteem and confidence as an initiate, realizing how the game of smoke and mirrors is played by those in positions of perceived authority and seeing beyond the bluster and cultish observation of dogma and groupthink enabled me to deploy my resources in far flung territories that others tend to avoid in my search for the precious seeds of illumination that are reserved for those who know, will, dare and keep silent.

Originally commissioned for a split release vinyl EP on an independent label (I forget the name). It was unused and remains somewhat of a curate's egg in my collection.

Some years ago I became good friends with with a most upstanding gentleman by the name of Nick who owns/manages London’s only independent punk record shop. Specializing in all genres of punk and its offshoots, I would often be in there looking for obscure crossover metal and thrash releases, not to mention the more “chuggy” side of crust (Sanctum, Stormcrow etc), so as one of the token metalheads I’d always have some good banter about divergent musical tastes and leave with a new earsplitting item or four for my collection. It is always an honour to do artwork for people whose dedication to the scene is total and all consuming, just like these cats. If punk in all its glory is what floats your boat then get your crusty, unwashed arse down to All Ages TODAY and satisfy your need for speed and filth… It’s a goddam pilgrimage!

(colorized) Some years ago I became good friends with with a most upstanding gentleman by the name of Nick who owns/manages London’s only independent punk record shop. Specializing in all genres of punk and its offshoots, I would often be in there looking for obscure crossover metal and thrash releases, not to mention the more “chuggy” side of crust (Sanctum, Stormcrow etc), so as one of the token metalheads I’d always have some good banter about divergent musical tastes and leave with a new earsplitting item or four for my collection. It is always an honour to do artwork for people whose dedication to the scene is total and all consuming, just like these cats. If punk in all its glory is what floats your boat then get your crusty, unwashed arse down to All Ages TODAY and satisfy your need for speed and filth… It’s a goddam pilgrimage!

A simple ink-splatter image depicting the Crucifixion of Krist. The symbolism here draws on the interpretation of the three crosses as representing fundamental esoteric, runic principles of Bar (“it carries, is classed with change”, the one who carries the burden with piety and acceptance), Tel (…”receptive, directed by ‘energy and matter’, the living nexion of the spiritual and material dimensions) and Balk (…”must conceal and hide, it’s the pliable support”, this rune shows the “need” for self realization). The lettering at the top is Hebrew script.

The deep mind, central vortex of primal slime… Akashic strata of unadulterated experience and unlimited possibility. Everything has already happened… “It’s after the end of the world… don’t you know that yet?”

(Thanks to Sun Ra for inspirational quote).

An experimental ink work from back in the Myspace days when I was doing cover art for thrash and black metal bands… There is an oddness to this piece that I can never quite put my finger on… Often my hand is guided by unseen forces and I just act as a mere “editor” for whatever entities are speaking through me at the time…

Originally intended as the cover artwork for a black metal demo back in the Myspace days, it never got used, but still stands quite nicely on its own as a piece of art.

At some point, quite a long time ago now, I did a series of pieces entitled “The Sacrifice” showing various takes on my vision of a midnight, diabolic ritual sacrifice… the first attempt was a pencil sketch which may sill exist in a dark corner somewhere, under piles of sketchbooks and other articles of faith. As far as I know, this is the only surviving drawing from that series that I have in my possession.

Seth was the third son of the biblical Adam and Eve (excepting the myth of Cain’s procreation via Lilith which would make him the second). It was through him that the lineage originally meant to be carried out by Abel was continued. It is said that Seth preserved the most ancient wisdom in the construction of two great pillars. This was the science of matter and spirit, the Royal Art of transmutation that not only can elevate man toward the totality of his ultimate being but also may one day serve to establish the Kingdom of Heaven upon the Earth. However, there will first be devastation and catastrophe… Only one great pillar survived the flood of destruction that engulfed humanity at that time… The other will be rebuilt again in keeping with the law of the Eternal Return.

From a series in progress, intended as a meditation and divination tool for those who work the qliphotic zones and tunnels of the Nightside Qabalah. Gamaliel here, is the qliphot of Yesod, the zone of lunar energy and dreams… the Astral realm. An obscene ass ejaculates as he pleasures a captive who is lying prone, her rear presented to him in shameful submission. A crone with at least a dozen sagging udders howls into the nightside abyss as they ride to Sheol in the depths.

Qliphotic series in progress: A’Arav Zareq is the pliphot of Netzach on the nightside tree. The ravens of dispersion dismember the constituents of every form of life that is available to them, they scatter to the four winds all but the faintest memory of the souls of the damned who are their prey.

Qliphotic series in progress: Lilith. She is the qliphot of Malkuth, Queen of the night, mother of vampyres and shapeshifters, patroness of perversions and unrestrained passions.

Qliphotic series in progress: Samael is a manifestation of the Demiurge seen through the Mercurial, nightside lens. The qliphot of Hod, the charmer, the father of lies, mad god, deceiver and tyrant of this world. The negative Lucifer.

Taking its inspiration in equal part from HP Lovecraft's "Cthulhu mythos" and Clive Barker's "cenobites". This drawing shows a devotee of the crawling chaos, Nyarlathotep, giving the sign of "voor" in conjuration. Surrounded by tentacular appendages which writhe and slither around him, he is drunk with lust for blood, sex and terror.

Assuming the form of the ancient scapegoat, Og, the servitor of Azazel here processes through non-Euclidean landscapes of nightmare terror to lead the initiate to the threshold of the forge, where steel meets iron in the glow of the primal furnace. His flaming staff lights the way through the darkest meanderings of the underworld.

This composition addresses the contentious nature of some of the Gnostic writings of antiquity in their insistence that YHVH (Jehovah) and Satan are one and the same. In a cryptic and non-partisan manner the piece employs hidden and revealed symbols in equal measure to provide the basis for introspective meditation. In this way we move closer towards an understanding on an intuitive level of the complex and often competitive relationship between various races, cultures and their often irreconcilable nature in the world of unipolar, globalist hegemony which sees only "humanity"... a decultured, blob of homogeneous goop to be moulded by the architects of international finance and speculation, "liberated" from the cumbersome responsibilities of their past associations, folk, culture, religion, ancestral connection or filial identification.

Homage to Lovecraft's "deep ones", from "The shadow over Innsmouth" and other tales.

"Chaoick Baphomet" is an intricately encrypted chaos mandala that takes the sacred and the profane, the esoteric and the exoteric symbolism of the subterranean cultus of Baphomet and examines it from impossible angles, with unintelligible logic and towards unthinkable conclusions. The resulting, highly organized, yet fundamentally chaotic composition is a fully functioning portal through which one may communicate and indeed transact with the 'terra interior' and its denizens. This is done through projected concentration, repeated meditation and/or the directed use of sexual energy.

Inspired by the mythos and work of the Cultus Sabbati, the Zos Kia Cultus and others manifesting the subterranean and crooked path in creative occultism.

"Zothomorph" represents the congealing, simultaneous coagulation and dissolution of images that arise from the "Azoth" or "Ether", transmitted through the "deep mind" of the initiate. Glaring through the background of assorted amorphisms and "wandering forms" leers the goatish face of the Demiurgos as the masque of Baphomet. These wandering amorphisms are the spectres of the dead in transient form, arising and falling, each on its own path of evolution or involution according to the cosmic law.

A devotional piece depicting Shub Niggurath, the goat of a thousand young from Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos... black sabbatic goat of the Beltaine revels, the sinister praeterhuman cultus of whom those who know do not speak.

An excursion into the realms of our imminent extinction, hybridization and involution as a species... all eventualities coexist and compete in a postmodern apocalypse of uncertainty and paranoia... bio-transhumanist counter-revolutionary guerrilla shock troops vs cyber-transhumanist oligarchs and their AI robot minions... AI vs human intelligence... is it possible that we are only repeating the same mistakes in a comedy of errors spanning ages that reach back into the chasm of prehistory?

"Serpent of the Black Flame" depicts a manifestation of the serpent energies unearthed and exhumed by the Luciferian Theurgist. It is the "Ku" of the "Kultus KOTIOT", a secret body of chaos initiates who wage esoteric war against the postmodern world. A power source of necro-erotic energies, the serpent of the Ku dwells within the secret occult flame that takes its nourishment from the radiance of the Black Sun and the green ray of the seven stars.

There is considerable debate around some of the names of the qliphoth/klippot of the kabbalah. Namah, Nehema, Nahama or Nehemot is one that has its own controversies... The enigmatic presence shown forth in this drawing is shade of the nightside path that connects the Moon and the planet Venus.

Thematically inspired by the "Cthulhu mythos" novels and short stories of New England horror and fantasy writer HP Lovecraft, "The Tower of Koth" represents the nexus point of ingress/egress to the outer gods dwelling in the furthest reaches beyond the "wall of sleep". Some have found an allegory in the shushumna of eastern tantra, the middle pillar of kabbalah or the world tree of diverse pagan cults, it could even be said to show itself in the peristyle of Haitian vudou which is indeed the "gateway" by which the spirits descend and ascend. Flanking the tower are two guardians, spawn of mighty Cthulhu whose sleep eternal may yet come to an end with the turning of strange aeons...

The Sethian Gnostic praxis of ancient Egypt is a mystery in modern times... blown on the winds of timeless deserts of night. Though buried and forgotten, its powerful reverberations along with the fragments of myth which survive has given birth to a resurgent gnosis. Here the face of S(e)Th looks piercingly into the soul of the initiate, regarding his "virtue" and conferring the secret of how to restrain the dragon of unmediated will to power.

This piece is actually a bit of fan art I did for an obscure thrash/grind metal band from the US called Population Reduction (check em out). The title is taken from one of their tracks that particularly caught my twisted imagination and is my best attempt to evoke the spirit of corpse-grinding, bong-ripping, necro-thrashing skulduggery the band convey in their ofttimes irreverent and humorous "music".

Iconography of the blind, the dead, the half mad... staring into the vortex of the soul, three sisters of the old ancient oak grove... place of my youth, where faeries play and the old ways still remember the folk long passed away to the summer lands. Yet corpse-like, you maidens of dire import stand before me bearing tidings most grim. For sorrowful is the dawn for loves lost children... scattered upon the four winds... the weeping moon... pregnant with unspoken tales of what once was, is, and ever shall be...

"Stochastic synchrony" is trans-dimensional communication expressed through the lens of abstract neo-expressionism. Writhing with bio-anthropomorphic living sigillae, the scene is a compressed vista upon regions where the meta-cellular life of images becomes like a glyphic dance through intimate, electric moments of magical procreation.

They escaped to the Summerland beyond the polar border... through underwater tunnels of ice to the interior, they fled, but before they left for Aldebaran or Shambhala or Shangri la or Sirius or Agarthi or wherever it was they were headed there was a final skirmish. It was said that flying discs with unimaginable capabilities were seen to scatter the pursuing fleet and strange weapons of unknown origin outstripped their firepower sending them limping back across the ocean... Today the Black Sun rises over the ancient battlefields, the hissing of serpent tongued armies and the baying of the dogs of the end of times...

This is a drawing that I did for the woman who I eventually married.

Kek, ancient Egyptian god of chaos and darkness... his is the darkest hour before the dawn. Feared by the sons and daughters of the normie gods, for he is the bringer of much calamity for those who preserve the status quo.

The shaman has summoned a spirit guide. From the cauldron of burnt offering it arises, a wraith-like apparition in strangely human form... guarding the vessel is a pot-bellied servant of the old ones and between the two figures can be seen to ascend a black phoenix-like emanation.

The rebirth of the total Man (Man/Woman) in bind-runic composition. Runic alchemy.

The Hoo and their Totem show the way to initiate of the opening of the chakras on the nightside of the tree of life. These whirling swastikas are each a nexus of precise energy paths. Through the knowledge and use of these power points a connexion is gained with the walkers beyond the veil.

At some stage in his journey-quest the initiate experiences the true mystery of Kristos, the Ur-krist. This image portrays a synthesis or more accurately, an untangling of the ancient mythos and the later plagiarism known today as the Christian church. It is the moment of total and utter darkest night which heralds the dawn, this is expressed by the huge, looming face of a grinning devil that gloats upon the crucified god.

Cascading torrents of intermingled identities revel in their dissociation from all localizing imperatives. The eye of chaos winks out... interminable tracts of aeons pan out to encompass a scene of orgiastic regurgitations. There is fracturing, fractaling, an eternal demented cloning of broken pieces competing for time and space.

A concatenation of selves, overlapping in the path of egress to form non-local interstices in vertical time. The persona dissolves into personae… a codependent conglomerate of conscious chaos.

"The Curse" is a less than subtle example of the vein of somewhat dry humour that weaves its way through some of my work. Intended to conjure the flavour of pulp horror magazine or book jacket art, it depicts a demented sorcerer calling fourth foul and demonic forces from the pits of Hell to act upon his intended victim through the use of a voodoo-esque poppet.

This is one of a series of charcoals depicting the ex-stasis of the shaman in his quest for knowledge. The face dissolves into a flow of dragon energy that is captured between the lips and held in the fashion of Ouroboros, the ring pass not of kaosmos.

A goatish death-head peers from behind a candlestick as sigils and hieroglyphs fade into mist and the dance begins...

An idealized portrait of the late William S Burroughs, priest of chaos and initiate.

This drawing takes us to the realm of contemporary mythos and psychonautic chemo-gnosis. The machine elves are widely reported by DMT trippers and partakers of similarly intense psychedelics. They are often reported to be benign towards their human visitors, but some have experienced their more "mischievous side".

In spaces between impossible angles, there may exist that which could annihilate the very foundation of everything we once thought real. Amorphous coming-into-being mutates and coagulates in many ways to create its own life... a life devoid of human reason and compassion... ice like... watching... Here beyond the reach of all gods and demons there is that which was... that which is... and that which shall be again.

Hailed by the prophet of the nightside aeon, HP Lovecraft, the deep ones are the descendants of the great old ones who remained submerged in earths oceans after the great catastrophes that lead to their fall from terrestrial dominance. There they have continued to exist, until that fateful day when they may once again swarm forth to engulf and consume what is left of the human race...

Here we see the initiate literally "inflamed in prayer" within the circle of the arte, surrounded by that which he has called forth... from beyond, the deaths head speaks in tongues of leaping flame.

An emanation from the chaos matrix. Eight hundred and eighty eight months in the making, this drawing is a cosmogonic living repository of the speaking Azothic emanations in the key of K minor.

For those who would traverse the benighted corridors of the nightside, there awaits at the threshold of the outer zones a watcher. One slightest crack in the resolve, even the faintest tremor of doubt or fear in the heart of the initiate and all is lost.

Another piece inspired loosely by the "Cthulhu mythos" of HP Lovecraft and related authors/artists. Here we see the cultist who has become so integrally infected by some kind of virus from out of space that he now begins to physically resemble one of the many abominations called forth by his careless cosmic alchemy.

Child of the hybridization program. All humans contain a reptile brain. Not all humanoids on earth are human. Not all truths are revealed. Set and Apophis enshrined in the form of a magickal child.

An earlier sketch version of "The Tower of Koth", done using automatic drawing technique and free association to finish the composition.

Be wary along the way oh traveller of the outer highways of the night. There are wanderers who watch and wait, their feral odour permeates the thick, clotted atmosphere as you struggle to compose your racing thoughts... These are no friendly tree sprites!

Run, run dear traveller, as fast as your aching limbs will carry you... and further, run toward the dawn... ever toward the light of day that evades your grasp... onward struggle, never to look back upon the creeping, stalking of those who would eat thy mind and take thy very life-bread to be their own.

The founder of the Mormon Church, Joseph Smith is summoned from the grave by a heretical necromancer. He has risen as one of the undead in order wreak justice and retribution upon the church, mosque and synagogue which have turned their backs upon the true teachings and following the ways of the Demiurgos have entered into a pact with Hell...

This charcoal sketch takes its main thematic inspiration from the life and work of English occultist and artist, Austin Osman Spare, who lived in the borough of Southwark in South London. Spare was a master at capturing the fleeting forms that interpenetrate the tangible realms of human consciousness from outside, through his use of automatic drawing and shamanic techniques such as "the death posture" (a type of auto-asphyxiation employed by him to short circuit what chaos magicians have called the "psychic sensor" that mediates between the conscious and subconscious mind). 

This charcoal drawing is of the artist at the age of about 37 -38 years old... encroaching upon the scene are some of the disembodied presences which are conjured by the process and fed by the energies produced during the magical-creative gnosis.

The overlapping, bleeding through and cross-pollination of symbols and forms in this piece comes mainly through Gnosticism and the more pagan side of mystical Catholicism...

The title for this piece comes from my interest in the various myths, and divergent origins of the image of Baphomet. To some, the goat-head god of the sabbat, to others, the total being, divine androgyne, others yet, the head of John the Baptist, or the head of Janus, like Titian's "an allegory of prudence", looking simultaneously into the past, present and future. I have always held a fascination for the various myths that speak of a talking, disembodied head, so the other part of the title for this piece tips its hat to a song by the mighty psych-rock band, Hawkwind and their song entitled, "Bring me the head of Uri Gagarin."

The Cubic enfoldment of Cosmos is revealed in the form of a hieroglyphic Cross of Calvary, supported by the watchers of the spaces and rising above the Octorisk of Chaos, it is the prelude to the great opening, the dissolving of the frustrum which encloses the Trapezoid, thus releasing the energy of PanDaemonium.

She appeared in candlelight, pursued by demons, fleetingly she stayed, concentrating, as if in prayer. The spell was cast and she was gone, leaving only the narcotic smoke of her foreign sexuality.

The fascination of the praeterhuman deaths-head is seeping through all of our recorded history. Reality is being altered at ever more accelerating velocities. The arrival of total enslavement is exponentially imminent.

A grinless array made its ascent from the swirling vapours of the cauldron. While it stayed, we conversed in hushed tones and spoke of occult things as the smoke of a thousand funeral pyres rose heavenward.

Amid the most ancient, benighted cities on the farthest reaches of sentient comprehension, the initiate autoregurgitates the self as a sacrifice to the god of doubt.

The features of a High Elven diplomat in his autumn years stared back at me with a cold, penetrating fixation. We aristocrats of the soul bear much responsibility to one another in these end times of rootless wandering.

Intraconflicting morphic resonance provokes beastly forms to appear in the agitations caused in the plastic medium by the intense suffering of the time-afflicted leper.

Black Sabbatic Goat of a Thousand rabid spawn... IA Shub Niggurath...

It is said that before he came to these lands, the silent stranger had been a dweller of the wastes, and before that had been raised as a child in the mountainous regions of Kadath where sane men feared to venture. Though not by elven, or even human guardians was he raised, but by ancient things that bear no resemblance to the creations of earthly gods.

The Ku is in the Khao, not the Khao in the Ku. A fetiche of the K topological tide-line. A fragment of immeasurable inscrutability. The twelve bolts of Black Lightening are released in the unfolding, by incremental degrees... in this place, the map IS the territory.

An impish faerie of the nightside abysses is clutching the averse triangle of the Yellow Priesthood. Within the confines of the resulting prism, the YoniLinga of negative chaos begins to stir.

The turning eye observes contortions, amok in revelry they coagulate and dissolve in an endless carnival of orgiastic indulgence. Opening to embrace the direct current of the electromagnetic core, de-frustrated, it reaches conclusion as a tripartite current.

Shed not a tear for the swordsman, the warrior who is but a limb of the gods. For when he striketh, it is the gods who strike, and when he is struck it is to the gods that he shall return.

Before the synagogue of Satan and it's church of original sin were erected by the demiurge to pervert the course of man's return to Holy Grace, the Desert Fathers dwelt in solitude among the rocks and mountains, wrestling towards oneness, in combat and with pious resolve did they address the shadowy djinn that inhabit the caves and recesses.

The twilight realms of shadow and opaque luminosity are administrated to the highest standard by the most qualified entities.

Humanity's grey ghosts are employed in the good work of not being here and seeing to it that they are never relied upon to affirm their existence. But delirium is ever watchful to swoop and enchant a useful idiot or two.

Coiled in meditative concentration, the Wraith of the Black Lotus consults the talking bone of Set.

The world of men knows not the darkest secret that undulates beneath the surface of their everyday thoughts. It is here that communion with perverse alien intelligence is officiated by the priests of eternal decay.

Unfamiliar forms and writhing plumes of vaporous intelligence cascade from the thurible. Through the skrying glass, the adept of the silent pact espies a predatory denizen of the spaces between the angles.

We are led to believe that we have a relatively solid understanding of our origins and history as a species. But do we really? Or do we just blindly accept what we are told?

Rising above the desolate rune-stones, the shadow-form of the Setian arch-magus reveals the amorphous personae of the hidden god.

Self-mutilating, auto-evisceration has manifested as a being of desire. The schizoid obsession of undead dreams will enchant as if there were no future state, no emanation through which our suffering may speak.

No one hears the wind that rushes through the Death Head Gimp... not even the faintest fluttering of the wings of suicidal angels. Only the brave and the stupid have been anointed by the cold finger of the godless abomination which bears these rotten fruit of despair.

A bind-rune containing the staves that make up the title of a most elusive cultus, the Ku Bysuth. Rarely meeting on the physical plane, this pact of sorcerers and psychonauts came about at the exact moment of crisis when the culture war began to see the physical disintegration of the "old orders"... a further development was the transitory nexion of KOTIOT, whose legacy may yet pour forth upon the world of things its magical elixir of creative occultism.

Sometimes our prayers go unanswered... sometimes they are heard by the computerized mind control machine inside the moon. But woe betide those whose prayers are answered by the Sodom Angel.