ample
asteroid

no we are not Richard Prince - we are the amazing Ample ASSteroid! contemporary art limited editions, prints and multiples

fine art contemporary editions, prints and multiples for sale

the ART of urban living*

* and also just art. Frart's sake.

Hello? Welcome to the Ample Arse-teroid blog. In which we tell you lots of things about AMPLE ASTEROID enterprises and more. MORE! MORE!

Sitting comfortably?

Well, this month (December, 2006) has seen the star-studded launch of Ample Asteroid - Press, paparazzi and a twinklin' firmament of hot-ass slebs gathered (in our dreams, actually) for a sumptuous inaugural ceremony followed by champy-swilling and little blobs of nosh on crackers (canna pays, y'know).

(YAWN). We're bored already. You, too, probably.

Go ahead. Look at STUFF. (Buy stuff, even).

Stuff is what we do best, and there's lots of it here. And (yes! yes!) even more to come!!!

Art with a heart ™. Well, sort of.

Later December

Blogging is not easy; Ample Asteroid has unwillingly discovered early on that writing about stuff isn't easy (less difficult to draw about stuff, or think about it / dream about it) but no no no - being coherent wordily isn't easy.

So we'll provide you instead with a list of (some of) our ENEMIES and (some of ) our HEROs, which isn't quite so difficult.

SWORN ENEMIES of the Asteroid (grrrrr)

1. The Lord Mayor of London, who took away our door-less buses. Life may well not be worth living without Routemasters.

Joy, oh joy, to jump on a bus and jump off a bus. And we never broke a leg or even a toenail.

Death to the Devil Destroyer of Beautiful Bumbling Buses!!!

2. Boozy banker boys bonus-ing billions.

£15 MILLION bonus obscenities for top-of-heap city boys?? Even Ample Asteroid would not accept £15 million for beautiful, lovely artworks hand crafted / blood, sweat and tear-dropped - and ALSO, also, we would pay our cleaners good money, if we had them.

Devil Destroyer of Buses agrees with Ample Asteroid apparently, so is (partly) forgiven.

HEROES of US

1. T.S. Eliot. What a visionary! What a wordsmith, riveting rhymer & concocter of cunning conceits!

So let us go then, hand in hand with Tom, when the evening is spread out against the sky like a patient etherised upon a table, and pause to observe the Wasteland which is creeping ever, ever closer.

2. The old ladies with very few teeth who sell newspapers and who we love, LOVE! madly/badly. And who call you darlin' and make you feel good about the world (until you start to read your newspaper).

3. Andy Warhol - " a scream... a dream..." and the ONLY one (yes, the only one) to understand the 21st century 4o years before it happened.

4. Jonathan Meese. That old Faustian Deutscher devil.

January 2007

Happy 2007 to all our legions of one or two readers.

Here's hoping that the new year will bring a modicum of joy, sporadic happiness and perhaps even a little good fortune to offset the atrocities and pointlessness of modern existence...

To rewind - ever so slightly - The Asteroid spent a very enjoyable New Year's Eve in the company of various freaks and clubkidz at London's AntiSocial.

(Not being freaks or clubkidz oursleves, many of us were unsuitably attired in pinstripe shirts/flesh-coloured tights, which actually felt very edgy and deliciously alternative.

Teena, (seen at top of page) managed to blend in beautifully with the crowd, however.)

Lots and lots of lovely outfits and charming hair-dos formed part of the evening, not to mention with copious quantities of glitter glued to faces, bottoms, baps and other appendages.

The Asteroid is obviously a great advocate of glitter, tinsel and other gawjus blingy stuff, so felt right at home amongst the glam-bam party crowd.

Overheard: "Is this the queue for the toilets?" "Nah, it's the queue for make-up."

January 14th. SUNDAY January 14th, moreover

Today is hell. Hell, but without the nice warm special effects.

Here at the Ample Asteroid production pod, grey skies and general meterological gloom are leaving us virtual speechless with apathy.

Today we would quite like to be in California, californicating with all the marvellous tanned and happy artists who live there and also own surfboards and also thriving potted palms.

Mickey took a very hot bath this morning in an attempt to dispel ennui, but simply ended up twice contemplating suicide by drowning.

JJ told him it was supposedly a rather nice way to go, which was hugely encouraging and tenderly supportive.

Jan (towards the end of it, thankfully.)

Various members of Ample Asteroid who currently look like slobs would like to look like artists.

This is causing consternation and existential uncertainty because this is REALLY Not As Easy as it Would Seem.

In the old days male artists apparently wore corduroy jackets, which were quite sufficient to cause Scandal and Indignation, especially if they were green.

Women probably wore dresses made out of curtains.

Yes, yes, in the olden days it was certainly easy to instantly identify An Artist.

(Oscar Wilde, who wasn't really an artist but hung around with several, sometimes wore royal blue velvet knickerbockers. This is maybe possibly perhaps a good idea but most department stores no longer stock knickerbockers).

Following prolonged observation, we have ascertained that many Artists of our acquaintance closely resemble Accountants-with-a-Certain-Flair.

This would be an Easy-Look-to-Emulate EXCEPT that we are usually covered in paint and grime.

Even our underwear is daubed with dirty fingermarks, which probably means we are not concentrating hard enough on Creating Art.

Well - we demand to at least look like something.




























art with a heart


















slebs for dinner and tea

no we are not Richard Prince - we are the amazing Ample ASSteroid! contemporary art limited editions, prints and multiples

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