The Official Ian Miller website


	home artwork text biography online store contact useful links

Welcome to the official Ian Miller site.

This is the place to find out more about the artist Ian Miller. Ian has been creating artwork since the 1960's. Not only is he a respected fantasy artist, he also creates fine art and is a writer. Selections of his art are scattered throughout the site. You can click on most images for enlarged versions. There are also a selection of Ian's writings throughout his site.

Enjoy!.

Click on the following links to find out more about the artist & his work

Artwork
A selection of Ian Miller's art.
Text
prose & poetry.
Biography
Some information about the artist.
online store
original art work.
Contact
Use this page to contact Ian Miller about his work .
PDF article
A 1984 interview about Ian (from the Fantasy Art Techniques book).

15:34

That's when it all began.

The culpa morti were killing rabbits in the garden

and exchanging Corsican recipes.

It stopped for a while

and I lost touch.

Now I'm reconnected

Some say it was the snow and ice.

I nearly drowned when I was a child, so know this is a nonsense.

It's Monday 18:36 and I'm changing things

I looked in the fridge and under the tree

then remembered a precipitous incline on the north face of the Eiger

I had once visited in a dream.

When I got home, I would find out what was in the dented tin box

I stabbed myself in the eye when I was a kid with a butter knife, sliced my fingers with a pen knife, got a broken gill milk bottle stuck in my right eyebrow , bashed my finger flat with a large hammer, and impaled myself on Barbed wire.
Not all at once mind you.
I had a thing with fire , still have, but seeing what happened to Savonarola, put me in mind of joining the fire service.
I ended up breeding fire red canaries, feeding them on cumin cakes and red poster paint .

I told them not to take the circus to Stalingrad.
All the tigers are dead.
The high wire performers fell to their deaths with frostbite fingers, killing two clowns on the way down,
DESPITE! the hand warmers from Troy –––––––

“ I saw a dead blackbird lying in a dried puddle of black ink on the pavement near the entrance to the Kunst museum in Rotterdam”

I've shrunk to three foot six inches tall, had my nose bitten off by a goblin and developed an appalling stutter. The dog is limping because he killed the goblin that bit of my nose and I think i might be pregnant which is extremely worrying, given the stutter and my diminished size. All that aside I'm doing Ok .

I tried dancing on wet sand
It was not easy.
The dog dung a hole
And I stopped to watch

The cadence of cupidity.

how does that sound now.

Is it :

the noise of a cash register closing on a sale.

the trader's laugh, the banker's smile

Something quieter

Vancouver Dream / fragment / three panelled image under construction

I looked up again to reassure myself it was not angels tumbling on the wind

Imagine a red room, then tell me all about it?

''The Adventure may be mad but the adventurer must be sane '

GK Chesterton : The Man who was called Thursday 1908

Rift X ( section / panel 1 )

three panel image

for Paul and LizAnn Lizzotte

in progress

RIFT X (section ? panel 2 )

RIFT X (section ? panel 3 )

Despite,,,, being locked in the dark cupboard again last night, by the men in Pink I wrote my name on the palm of my hand with an indelible pencil, so I'm pretty sure I'm who I say I am, because I can't see any stitch marks to suggest this is a new hand or a new me. The shop is not set up for a cart because I'm dealing at the moment with the variables of original thought? different sizes, weights etc, that cannot be put in a standard box or tube with established postal rates. I ask everybody to contact me, if they wish to buy original stitch marks or crocodile claws

When I arrived, the Station seemed empty.

Wind shepherded the litter towards the ill lit stairs and platform underpass.

It was only after the train pulled out and I walked towards the exit,

that I noticed the two people sheltering in the doorway,

November 1st 2009 Preston Park
Walking the dog

I came across a chap staring up into a tree, near the children's playground.
He had a small book open in his left hand and I wondered what he was
doing
Ever curious, and prompted by the intensity of his stare, I look up, then ask him if he was bird spotting.
He said " No I'm counting the leaves".
I wished him all the best and walked on,
musing on a conversation I once had with a short order cook on the eve of Borodino.

Our quarrels with the world are like our quarrels with God: no matter
how right we are, we are wrong. But who wants to be right all the
time?
Randall Jarrell

Henry Farrell sent me this .

CLICK on the image above

The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom;
The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction”

William Blake

I stole a red Dinky fire engine once, and a piece of Mrs Thornly's home made fudge.

She told me all about snakes swallowing babies whole out of there prams in India.
I'm writing a book,

but Tittivus keeps fucking up my present and past participles.

I'd like to say ' fucker' but that adds no descriptive quality to the sentence I'm told.

Someone once told me that ducks and swans had sharp teeth in their bills and that a swan could break your arm with one beat of its wing, and ever since then I have always been a little bit frightened of ducks and swans

She sent me to the fishmongers for three pieces of smoked haddock. I remember it was a Friday
and the sun was still shining. The trouble started on the way back. I’d bumped into Sid pushing his baby brother along in a push chair up on the Main Road with instructions from his mother not to return home until his brother was asleep. We could see he was almost there, so Sid said he’d walk back with me, which was good because he lived in the house right next door to my Aunt’s sweet shop. We were almost home when we saw two kids from the next street pushing Sid's other brother around in the entry behind the Butchers shop. Placing my wrapped haddock on the foot plate of the pushchair we both ran to his brother’s
aid, shouting as we went. The two assailants took off down the entry without a word.
Pleased by our timely intervention, not least Sid's brother, we turned back to the pushchair just in time to see two cats attacking my wrapped fish, cheerily watched by Sid’s baby brother who had woken up when we started shouting. They already had it off the foot rest and unwrapped as we started to run. One took off down the cobbled street, back the way we had come, dragging the largest piece of yellow haddock after it. The other for some unfathomable reason ran straight towards us, but then at the very last moment when it seemed we’d catch him swerved to the right and took off after the other cat. I gave chase But they were far too fast and soon out of sight. I walked back to the looted package and inspected the remaining haddock. It didn’t look too good.

I returned to the Sweet shop with the mauled survivor and explained to my Aunt what had happened. she wasn’t interested in Sid’s brother and said he probably deserved it. She told me I was a thoroughly stupid child, unreliable and that she would be telling my mother. I had to have boiled eggs for my tea, which in truth I much preferred, because it was one of the few things she didn’t manage to spoil. When I told my mother what had happened she laughed and said not to worry.

Dada allows the simultaneous negation of any affirmation. Dada is yes-no, a bird on four legs, a ladder without steps, a square without angles. Dada possess as many positives as negatives. To think that Dada simply means destruction is to misunderstand life of which DaDa is the expression

Van Doesburg 1923

Anybody with an iota of sense,would have dropped the box in the newly dug hole

and walk away from it right there and then

but good sense had never been one of my strong points

and anyway, I had a weird feeling that if I did drop it and run,

it would be waiting for me somewhere up ahead.

The box and I were going all the way.

Wild gesticulations,

squeezed fingers,

grinding teeth,

and a pin for the pomegranate

Another week and no weather.

Never pick blackberries after Michaelmas, because the devil has spat on them and turned them bitter"

Being dislemsick does not ward off flue or colds,

despite what it might say on the packet,

but it can be fun;

especialearly when writing the word :

Fumigate.

I am lead to believe that Fumigate

is a very scary character

from 'Star Wars'

A new type of boat

It doesn't have a bottom and relies on prayer to keep it afloat.
Animistic chants work best.
The power source is a mix of condensed lament and irish linen.
Do you think the world is ready for it?
Maybe I should make marmalade?

Why was there a line of six pink plastic buckets

outside the back door of the Coast Guard Cottage?
They looked brand new.
When I got closer,

I could see that each of them was full of coloured water,

an outrageous blue,

reminiscent of the Eastman colour cheapies

played out on Pacific atoll’s
It must be an old Martin’s liquid watercolour.
I looked into each, expecting to see goldfish

or some other denizen of the deep,

Their was nothing swimming about in any of them,

but in the last bucket,

I could see a coin lying on the bottom.
Unable to resist,

I pulled up my sleeve and reached into the blue water.

No sooner had I pulled my arm out,