Jules is just some fucked up art artist. 
From partnerships with Rolls-Royce Motor Cars to not being able to pay the rent.
Curator, Oil Painter, Academic Mentor, Story Teller, World Builder, Experimental Artist living under the oppression of Big Illusion™ 
A wizard, a warlock a warrior, a poet,a bastard...
whatever, he's just some dude.
He puts himself in the art.
He's not really the art though, that's cap asf wtf?
He's already making some new art, ever engaged with the process getting up to escoteric shit.
Polarising as 5 fat fish sticks on a hinky-dink, annoying the fuck outta some and inspiring the very inner light that makes this mess worth living to others. 

Jules Lawrence Hancock is a glinting double edged broad sword, shining out from the silent void ready to slay demons, illusions and spread vegimite on toast. Lightly smear over BUTTER not MARGARINE my fucking GOD & NOT LIKE TOM HANKS bloody did it... this ain't nutella out here...

Anyway Jules has almost died a heap of times and he doesn't give a fuck about what's not important to him and gives a great deal of care and attention to what is.
Soverignty of personal autonomy.
The fight against SUBTLE DEATH (& fast death but that's another matter) SUBTLE DEATH ;emotional, social, spiritual, sytemic.

He's not politically correct, he's post cancelled, he's here while he's here and then he won't be and he's making stuff.

Ideally his work reasonates and inspires you. 

He makes it for himself, an honest diary entry & then venerably shares it vunerably... because that's what fucked up artists do.

Real Jules has plenty of meaning,his body of work less so but he's already made it just by making it.

thank you for coming to the ted talk.Now go kick life in the butt! & AMPLIFY WHAT YOU LOVE!