News...

 TL/DR: Welcome back friends!  Uh oh! I accidentally typed a manifesto. I will be posting 10 weeks worth of new monsters starting Monday April 3rd! I will also have signed copies of the anniversary edition of Tom Cardamone's Green Thumb available as well as more signed editions of Harboring Monsters. Also I have a new zine ready! I'm also working on another kinda secret project for Lethe Press which I'll talk more about in the coming weeks! 

Fuck crypto! Fuck social media!

Hello! If you follow me on Instagram you may have seen that I'll be starting to post 10 weeks worth of new monsters starting on April 3rd. It's been about a half of a year since I posted last, so I thought it was worth making a little statement before I dive back in. 

Social media is becoming less and less useful as a tool for artists. Shock and frequency are rewarded in the algorithm while subtlety, context and long form explanations are discouraged or even impossible depending on the ap. 

As such, I've decided to take a more adversarial approach to social media.

For one, I make & post art when I want. This isn't to say I'm not constantly working on pieces, it just means I choose when and what to post where. I've come back around to preferring this blog because I can include quotations, inspiration, background on the particular project and even reference photos. 

Secondovly, I will not make videos or reels. My work is static. It's a bestiary and as such it's intended to present a creature with no distractions, no background, no clothing (except Gods) and is not conducive to jumpy camera, fast cuts and weird filters. 

I will also not be dancing. Many artists, in response to IGs decline, have taken to embracing viral trends or suggesting posting formats. I don't blame them. When our work is devalued and the only platforms squeeze us to the margins of the feed, it makes sense to try to game the algorithm. But it's their game. I feel like art has taken a backseat to a curated profile. That's just not something I care to devote my time to. I'd rather use the time it would take to film, edit and upload many videos a week to draw more monsters. 

I have thought for a long time about a Patreon or some other subscription service. This isn't the worst idea and I do subscribe to a few that I enjoy. However, I think it would become more of a job than my actual art; making sure people feel they're getting enough content to justify their subscription, sticking to a rigorous schedule and making other types of content. And it may be a bit utopian of me but a huge part of my work is that I want anyone to be able to access it. Yes the zines and books I release are the ideal way to view my work, but if you can't afford them or live somewhere with unreliable shipping, you can just check in on my blog or follow me on instgram. 

Most importantly, you will not see NFTs of my work (unless they're stolen). It goes beyond disinterest. I actively abhor Web3, crypto and NFTs on a moral and political level. I will link to a few good resources that help explain my stance but basically it's hyper-capitalism in its ultimate form.



Charging a ton of money for absolutely nothing and chewing through natural resources in the process. It's a ponzi scheme designed to sucker artists that are finding it all the more difficult to earn a living with their craft. Not to mention it was created by (and is still mainly for) far-right Libertarians that hope to live a feudal lords in some fantasy post-bank apocalypse. And the idea of Web3 is to create a digital world where absolutely everything will be commodified. As I stated above, I want people to be able to access my art for free. 

 

Tech Won't Save Us

Scam Economy

Crypto Critics Corner

  
I have been asked by multiple strangers and one gallery if I'd be interested in making NFTs and I said no every time. Freelance artists need better healthcare, higher wages and looser turnaround time not a speculative asset with a million hidden fees. The gallery pissed me off the most. I'm already of the opinion that most galleries are hype machines that don't earn the 50% or more they demand. But the steelman argument behind NFTs was to get more money into the hands of creators without a middleman! To then just have those vulturous middlemen swoop in to demand a cut of a digital asset?! Like, you could make the argument that a gallery deserves SOME cut of a sale (def not 50%) because they have a physical space to maintain and employees. But they do NOTHING to deserve a cut of an NFT sale. Not only that but there's the minting fees etc that artists usually aren't aware of.

Anyway, this went way too long and mostly turned into a rant. Hopefully, you'll get a better idea of where I'm coming from and my approach to art. 

HARBORING MONSTERS DELUXE EDITION AVAILABLE NOW!

 HARBORING MONSTERS DELUXE EDITION

• Hand signed.
• Hand numbered.
• Includes original drawing of a monster from the book.

SOLD OUT

SPIRIT OF THE WOODS

SPIRIT OF THE WOODS
"Nature waited. Nature and his dark secrets. He tried to tell her so much that first time, show her so much. Like a coarse dark blanket he covered her all muscle and sinew, harsh rough skin, monstrous teeth like stubborn roots, ivy eyes. She screamed, escaped from him."

"Stringy bits and tiny limbs beings swallowed by the swelling trunks, long twisted branches mashing pieces of her into the orifices of other trees. A shoe fell to the ground and was swallowed by the earth. The tip of Beth's dotted yellow dress was sucked in between two shards of bark at the height of a woodpecker's perch."

"He laughed, the sound of splintering wood, but she saw the pity on his face, felt shame of her failure."
Philip Fracassi, Coffin

CUR

CUR

"Animal flashcards flipped through Jim's mind — raccoon, possum, dog, cat — but none of theme fit the creature that slammed headlong into the Roadmaster's front wheel. The thing was fas, faster than anything Jim'd ever seen. It ran on four legs, but was bigger than a cat or an opossum, and more hairy, almost like a bear cub. Later, when recounting the incident, he would dismiss the other things his mind had noticed: the snarling mouth and long fangs, the deep red eyes — dark as blood but also bright, as if illuminated from behind. In the days to come, he would try and convince himself it was a large fox, or lynx, even if he never really believed it."

Philip Fracassi, Commodore

HOBBES

HOBBES

"He didn't look much like a human anymore. His head was that of a huge black horse, or a unicorn, but it was nasty. The horn was long as I am, it stuck out forever! And it was drippy and twisted, moving up and down like it was covered in little skinny snakes. He pretty much doubled in size, and even though he still had his normal body, it was bigger. Way bigger. All covered in a thick hair and he had a tail and when he walked everything shook, like tiny earthquakes."

Philip Fracassi, Symphony

MEKETATEN

 

MEKETATEN

"Large beetles to be sure, an most closely resembling the scarabaeidae or, more commonly known, Scarab beetle."

"It was a massive thing, long as a small dog, perhaps, and wide as a baby sea tortoise. It's antennae were long and black, tensing and twitching in the depths. The shell was a solid bright gold, shiny and clean as chrome, with three bright green luminescent dots set neatly across, about midway down its shell."

"It had slick jaws and a monstrous beak. The beak was shaped like jagged teeth."

Philip Fracassi, Ateuchus

DEMON

DEMON

"I see more demons among them, all black as night. On has horns that spiral high and twisting over its head. One wears the gray poncho of a fallen soldier like a cape, while another lies like a crow, weaving between men. I stare too long at the horned creature and am noticed. White eyes stare back, flicker red and yellow. I catch a glimpse of its face - a mouthful of teeth, a wet snout. I look away, look down. I find my musket in the mud, lift it free, pause, then walk away from the battle. Back toward the ticket, the spot of the ambush, and my brother."

Philip Fracassi, Shiloh

ATTERCOP

 

ATTERCOP

"I was about to rise when I head strange sounds beside me. Slowly, I turned my head toward Julie, my body stiff with tension beneath the grimy, slick excretions of my flesh, It was dark, so horribly dark, and yet I could see the sheets rolled around her as to form a womb. It encompassed her from head to toe, not a bit of flesh visible. No moonlight came through the blinds, no ambient light from the hallway. The bedroom door gaped open to an even deeper darkness beyond."

Philip Fracassi, Mother

BLOOMING ONE

 

BLOOMING ONE

"She stumbled and tripped, fell to her knees as petals slapped down onto her face, over her eyes, into her mouth. She gagged, hands pulling them away, tearing them apart. Everywhere they touched flesh burned like fire. Her tongue dissolved in her mouth. The flooding stench of then, of him, filled her. She collapsed to the floor, a writhing form, covered in a thick blanket of petals as she fought, clawing rotten flesh, begging for forgiveness."

"The pulsing, twisted shape of fluttering petals rose into the air, what was left of Sylvia squirming inside, screaming as the cocoon of shifting colors drifted toward the open coffin, where her nana waited, arms open wide."

Philip Fracassi, Coffin

BARNACLE MAN

BARNACLE MAN
"Some white hair was visible, sticking out between two hardened black shells where his head should be. Something tube-like wiggled near his belly, seeking purchase.

"Jack moved the light from one end of the captain to the other, the glistening wet ebony of th ecrustaceans reflecting back at him like hateful eyes. Tentacles moved in and out of the shells all along the corpse, and the great belly appeared to be swelling and sinking as if the old man were still breathing under there."
Philip Fracassi, Sacculina