Damien Meade’s work is beguiling, dark and takes the form of paintings of his homemade
fleshy and lumpy clay sculptures. Sometimes eyes peep from behind a wire ball of chaos, or an almost featureless head, with just a hint of a mouth. Eyes are vaguely there, gouged out by the swipe of vicious fingers. Abstracted and lumpy ladie's heads pose at a three quarter angle, with a shy show of cheek and eyelash. Turd-like structures intertwine like copulating poos or a conjoined bulbous worm who has eaten too much. It is draped with a creamy white cloth exposing a tuft of short raven hair, alluding to an armpit or a mound of venus. A bodiless foot missing a toe and wearing a toe-ring Looks almost like one turd is pooing out another.
In one of his works its as if a sausage making machine has been left switched on, spewing out an elongated frankfurter-like protrusion. The controller has left the building or is that him peeping through the sausagey headgear? Busts of mysterious ladies with shiny ebony shoulders and irridescent shoulders abound, suggesting a slathering of body lotion infused with oil or petrol.
Meade's creepy model sculptures appear half made or half alive. A head-shaped mass of wire smokes a cigarette or bares a pair of chattering false teeth. Both visceral and humourous, faeces feature with decayed crooked teeth and bandages. They balance
precariously on nothing but another tiny lump of clay or turd. Meade's uncanny paintings allude to ancient relics, remains, death masks, fossils, antiquities and best of all, poos with personalities.