Any Help Helps, cotton canvas for artists, acrylic paint for artists, staples not specifically intended for artists, plywood intended for the city dump, 14.14″ -+ tall, 2013.
The painting was installed and left in my dear neighbor’s house. A nice guy with a real nice little family with kids the same age as ours — He asked if we would take care of his cats while they left for Thanksgiving break. I obliged and thought it opportune to leave a little painting as a memento of our friendship.
For the first few days, I couldn’t imagine one of my previous paintings fitting within their home. It had to be something more somber and quiet, easily nestling in the background and not screaming out “Hey! It’s me, your neighbor!!” Needless to say, I created this work specifically in mind for them.
Admittedly, I was nervous about their return and curious about their reaction hoping they didn’t feel insulted or as though I was invading their privacy. They ended up being pleasantly surprised, laughing about and liking my “performance” as he described. I like that and I like how it ties in with what artist Robert Morris stated, “The object has not become less important. It has merely become less self-important.” Yesss, the painting is important, but all of this is not just about the painting.
The Department, plywood, paint, paint, plywood, staples, canvas, canvas, staples, pain in the pain in the, 12.21″ tall -+, 2013
What a pain in the most sensitive part of the human anatomy this painting was. Start with a pretty clear vision for the creative process. Proceed; butt, then, it starts to fall away. You lose grip and it is as if the painting is slipping out of your hands — further and further from your/my preconceived notions. Just as it is about to float over the horizon, by the grace of God, it slowly is reeled back in, like a fisherman reeling in that huge swordfish off the coast of Costa Rica. As it nears closer, you start to realize you are no longer bringing it back, but that it is swimming towards you ferociously — eventually, jumping in the boat to slap you in the face. You want it? You Got it! At least, though, the fight is over.
Tie Dye Bloomington, plywood (found), acrylic paint (found), latex paint (found), 23.23″ x 22.22″ (dimensions vary), 2013
— I have never seen so many tie-dye t-shirts in my whole entire life — at least one per day here in Bloomington, IN.
For, fine artist materials, handyman materials, average Joe materials, 4.4″ x 6.6″, 2013
3/4 view w/ coffee thermos w/ coffee and my father’s winter work gloves (RIP)
My highest score on Sonic Dash is 82,851, plywood and paint, 12.22″ tall -+ (5 parts, dimensions vary), 2013
Sometimes I Feel 100 Sometimes I Feel 12 installed and left at WorkOne,450 S. Landmark Avenue, Bloomington, IN.
By far, this sculpture, has been one of my all time favorites. It was a sort of pivotal piece in that it allowed me to break a few of my own rules and not feel bad about it. Painting on the front became okay here and bringing the actual armature of the piece forward was a new component for my painting repertoire. Eventually the wood structure became directly conspicuous and was able to meander back and forth, covered and not, from the back to front like an adopted child — no problem.
So why let it go?? Why install it, leaving it behind for someone who may not give a damn? Or rather, why not leave it behind for them? At the end of the day, it’s a sacrifice, a gift to the painting gods, an atonement for my prejudice against what I/we/you might deem the unsophisticated, unaware and uncultured. OR, I just wanted to mess with somebody’s day, baffle them and provoke them to handle the painting, take it home and hang it on their own wall or throw it in the trash. It’s a pivotal point for them — monetary value aside, what is thing worth? My soul is in their hands. Besides, everyone needs a little helps sometimes.