I like to say that I am a mixed⚒media post🛠modern artist but I primarily create encaustic abstracts outdoors 🏞 because I am an expressive hedonist who worships the 🌞 and is in love with the scent of melted 🐝wax and 🌳 sap.
Doesn't mean I'll stop. I'll keep turning that screw & hitting the surface hard.
+ and turn the screw +
New work. Busy work. I need to be working. I've got so many things going on in my life. Busy life. Working hard, family life, always learning. Creating. My abstract art takes so damn long to create! My abstract art is the slowest thing in my life. I love it.
These are called "Evolutions" because each new work is cut from a copy of the previous work. Since these are hand cut, slight variations occur each time. These variations, as well as more directed changes, will make the works change slowly over time.
The story: I've got a restless soul that can be traced back to my early childhood in Southern California. While all the other kids were busy playing games, I'd spend countless hours on swings or in the tops of trees watching the birds and daydreaming that I could fly away with them to wherever they were going. That sense of restless wonder never left and I've spent the last four decades moving to & fro between California, Texas, and Florida. My home in Austin, like many places I've lived, is very close to the airport. I enjoy watching the steady flow of airplanes coming and going, knowing that each plane is full of people, all with their own unique motivations and destinations. Now, with this body of work, that sense of restless wonder is captured with a flock of small paintings. I love watching these paintings fly away, leaving me to wonder where they’ve taken off to.
When you stop by my place for this year's EAST, be prepared for a very active environment. Working outdoors, I create, destroy, and reconstruct temporal objects using encaustic, oil, heat, weather and time. (and time again)
November 11-12 & November 18-19
11 am - 5 pm
6311 Crumley Ln – (512) 696-9676
Currently I am reintroducing representational images back into my work. These representations will be utilized as a means of furthering my argument that images do not exist.
I will render the images nonexistent, before your very eyes.
I bled the wax from this painting (and one of it's siblings, too). I actually didn't totally know what I was up to at the beginning of summer. I set this painting and it's sister up on the slightest of slight inclines in that circle of the yard the gets spot-on hot sun from 2PM - 5PM. And I let them drip drip drip all summer long.
The first month or two the pigmented wax bled and bled. I figured it would all run and then be gone. And then the end of July arrived and it was like 107° for a straight week hard. The wax that bled turned transparent, leaving behind only pigments.
I'm not totally sure what is next for these works. The bleeding of the wax and the long time spent outside have faded the luster. Perhaps it's time to lay down a fresh skin of wax to bleed next summer.
I often struggle with defining my art for people. Defining abstract art is an arduous task in and of itself. My personal abstract art has it's origins in dada, punk, and existential philosophy, guided by a hard-fought life lived with force under the umbrella of a postmodern capitalist society. In a sense, my abstract art is my punk manner of expressing love for living in force while rejecting simple ideas, like commodity and definition.
There's a rumor going around that my work "rumors of war (dropped a bomb on me)" will be in the AVAA Member's Show at the Austin Art Space Gallery. Come check out the show September 8th - October 7th. The opening reception will be on September 9th, with live music from 6-8.
"rumors of war (dropped on bomb on me)" is a graphite and encaustic work on paper. I drew the scene while listening to news reports of the war. From San Salvador to Raqqa, war has been the background noise of my life. There's all this fighting and killing and machines, exploded, civilian casualties, insurgencies, covert operations. Drones are flown by kids in California, dropping bombs by happy hour. One bomb was so big, they made her the matriarch and you can watch her blow on youtube, though we can never be sure how many people she killed.
And all this goes on, what can I do? I go on living my life. I don't believe in war on principle but I also pay my taxes. On and on the war it goes. The army's a good way to get out of the ghetto, the barrio, suburbia. Machines are built and destroyed. Lives are ruined, extinguished. And I see it all on my phone. I read about it in the morning with my coffee, on the bus, on the toilet, in my bed at night. This war, I live with, this war without end, this underpinning of our society. Maybe in a few centuries they won't show our art in museums. They'll exhibit our trucks, improvised explosive devices, mortars and rifles, night-vision goggles, our bloodied boots and exploded cars.
The Art That.
I’m not trying to make Some Thing that Looks Nice.
I’m not really an artist.
If I had to be a Thing I’d be more like a “quote/unquote” philosopher than an artist.
I’d also say that i do not put much stock in.
or ) philosophy ( i don’t care about art.
, as philosophy don’t give a damn ~
Lying awake during a cold, moonless night in the Mojave desert I listened to the sounds of coyotes and freight trains. Unable to sleep as thoughts about the eternity of time and of infinite space washed through me, I felt as if I were floating without the ability to control my direction in the midst of a massive vacuum. I was seven years old. That same sense of existing in a vacuum, facing down the full expanse of time never left so I've tried many different methods of facing it, the most productive of which has been art.
I utilize art to express an essence of time passing and of being all at once. I want my art to illustrate the b-theory of time: an object exists throughout all of the points of time that it has been in existence. I attempt to illustrate time both passing and of being with a method that relies on the repeated growth, destruction and growth of a painting's surface. My art does not exist as an object or illustration; this art exists as a temporal body.
Poets, Punks & Philosophers!
Send us your words.
We'll cut them up, regurgitate them & publish them. If the alleged words are adamantine we'll publish at face value & let them simmer.