I'm BACK! Oh YEAH!

I have been lazy about updating this thing. So let me give you a quick up date.

In November I moved into a house about a block from Lake Michigan and I set up a new studio space.

After two years of feeling I had every ounce of creativity sucked out of me I am back in love with life and art.

I have been working on a few old projects that were damaged when my basement flooded in June of 2008. But I have a sketch book of fresh ideas and I am ready to dive into one tonight.

My perspective of televangelism is still my focus. I have decided to work with the same vintage colors only make things a little smaller and easier to transport.

Photos will be up soon.

Thanks to Skip

Last week we lost you and I want to thank-you.

Six years ago I walked to the art office and made the change from music to art. Julie knew I was scared and told me that she wanted me to meet someone. We took the walk down the stairs to Dans Sculpture studio. I sat in the back and listened to the guest artist.

It was you, Skip Johnson our National Tresure. Your lecture lasted for about an hour. You spoke of your art and what it meant to be dedicated to you passion. It was in that moment between shaking your hand and Dans that I was in the right place. For the first time I felt like I fit in.

Lots of talks around Dans club house table, beers taken from secret hiding places, iron and wood, horse shoes and sweet lectures about the real world.

Lessons I took from you and Dan:

#1. Your partner in life needs to know how to balance a check book because we cant. Our kind gives it all away.

#2. A real artist is obsessive about their work. You know this because you cant sleep until the idea is let out.

#3. Your art is like your child, its difficult to give away.

#4. Cannons and light bulbs are lots of fun.

#5. The back pocket is a good resting place for cold beer.

Every time I work in the studio I think of you and something that I took away from you. Your play on words, secret humor in art. The passion and drive.

STand STill

I have been at a stand still for over a month with my art. I have moved to a new house and my brain feels like a fried egg. I feel like I'm having a difficult time tapping into the part of my brain and spirit that lets me process a complete idea. The ADHD is in full force.
I keep throwing around ideas that focus on John Hagee and Drag Queens. Today I feel like focusing on Stone Wall and self portraits. I also want to work in clay.
I just want to know what happened to my focus. Did I loose it on 2nd and Virgina. I have no problem now with the non-objective or obsessing over something that has nothing to do with art and nothing at all of importance.
My options are pull what little hair I have out, bang head on wall, punch something or dig deep inside and find the motivation and drive that I lost.

I will keep you posted.

I will NEVER make things for a CRAFT fair.

I found myself lost for a moment in my art last week. I wanted to make something for Evansville. Something that reflected my home in a positive light. I fell short and I could not break out of my box. I failed and found myself at my bench looking at something horrific.
The font is nice and so is the color, but not my style and lacks creativity. I am going to give it to my mom for a late May Day gift.

The Rich Bureaucrat that Stole Josh Filers Cardboard Mustache

I finished it TODAY! This cast iron head has been haunting me for 2 years, at least. The motivation to finish it came after an email I received from my elementary school art teacher informing me that her position was being terminated. One year before retirement.

I thought that this was fitting for the show that is being planned back home in the Evansville Public Library. Hopefully they will hang it. I will admit that it is not my best work but the idea behind it is more important.

PS. I still have a lot of passion for Evansville and the school district. I give them a lot of credit for my ability to be a free thinker and constantly push for success. My only problem is the new administration that is currently in place and the lack of integrity. Evansville is a 4-5+ generation community. It prides its self on family farm operations, artist community and progressive environmental projects. We thrive because of our small town values and belief in the greater good.
I would hate to see that change because of a new school philosophy.

New work dedicated to Ted Haggard

I have started to process and new sign. I have been following Ted Haggards life events from his public gay bashing, to his personal meth and gay sex addiction, to being exiled from Colorado and his most recent interviews that UN masked a human man that has evolved into something that is not untouchable.
Hes intriguing and his smile is creepy.

NEON

Reference pics.
I have been collecting them for a few years now.
I have had a fascination with vintage neon my entire life and it has been a major inspiration for my art.

Metal Casting

* The little man is called "Patty Pat Caught in the Act." it is made from aluminum. Wax, Ceramic Shell. (2006)

* Mask "Tribute to a Burning Bush." Iron, Wax, Ceramic Shell

Shadow Boxes

Once I discovered mixed media art I started creating these shadow box's. They represent past memories. (2005-2006)

Top with Green is called "Thank you to the doc at dean"
Middle Bus "Happy Golden Rule Days"
Bottom "A Theatrical Production for a Psychopath."

This is your life

I made a series of three TVs in the summer of 2005. I found the vintage tubes at the abandoned and dilapidated adobe styled motel that is between Whitewater and Fort Atkinson. I remember making a friend stand watch on the highway as I loaded them into the car.
On each tube I painted a scripture that speaks violently towards the LGBT community.
While I was painting them I flashed back to my childhood and a skit that was on Sesame Street. It was a parody of the original "This is your life" game show. Only it was the story of a battered red Shoe.

The day you left and he moved in.

I painted this in July of 2005. I painted it in one night, on the front poach of our "Art House". I had no light on so the June bugs wouldn't bother me. While I was painting this I was doing a lot of reading on Buddhism and Hitler (different books of course).
I also want to add that this painting has at least 3 more terrible paintings layered under.

The World around me.

Ha, I found this photo the other night. I completely forgot about it. I made this in 2002 I think. I wasn't even a full fledged art student.
I remember finding the window in a dumpster and packing it into the back seat of my 1996 grand am. I put it together in about a day over spring break. I guess you could say that this was the first mixed media project I put together, it catapulted a lot of thoughts.
The bottom frame is suppose to be a self portrait.

Sings, Private art.

In February 2007 I changed the direction of my art. Started making vintage looking signs that have text that comes from my daily observations, contemporary issues. Well, I made these signs and decided to incorporate a paragraph or just a little bit more about what I see in my mind when I am creating them. They are written in the voice and perspective of a person that is in the sign, they are in the environment that I created in my imagination or a true historical event…difficult to explain so just read the following blogs. The pics are a little ruff, I am still re working a lot of the art and haven't invested in slides.
I hops this will help people understand my mind and my work.

New, needs and name. working on the story

I was reading the book, American Fascists when I came up with this idea, well it triggered a past memory.
I have been developing the story for about 1.5 years. So far it involves, Pat Roberstons and Jerry Falwell. The slogan at the bottom "Life is Funtastic" was taken from a private schools school bus fleet.
I was driving on the interstate a few years a go and there was a green school bus broken down. The engine was basically on fire. All of the people were safe on the side of the road. On the side of the bus there were crosses and the slogan "LIFE IS FUNTASTIC!" written across the entire side of the bus.
I recently got the lights installed and the metal trim on. Almost done.

EYE CONTACT, SMILE, SHAKE, HAVE A NICE DAY

Standing in a crowd of thousands. Us vs. them. A plastic orange snow fence. Police mounted on horseback. October 2003. I can see my breath in the air. Ridiculous men stand on their concrete courthouse stage, protected by the constitutional right. They spew hatred and fear. A megaphone, a blond-haired blue-eyed boy. The next corrupt generation, unknowingly.

A moment of interaction, eyes lock on opposing sides of the fence. They brush shoulders. Pause, smile. Hands are drawn and his arm swings around past my shoulder blade, as I do nothing but stare at the meticulously hand-stitched patches on his shimmery bomber-style jacket. Beads of sweat rest on top of his ironically brown-eyed brows. He tells me "god bless" and "have a nice day."

HE STOLE THE CORNER CHURCH WITH THE GLASS BRICK WINDOWS

I recently took this one apart. I plan on adding lights inside of the box that will be dim and shoot through the slats.
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1943.Segregation. Chicago. A corner church. Sunday. Come as you are. A day in from the sun, hot foundry, fingers blistered. Your white linen shirt, hand-pressed. It sticks to you as the beads down your back.

A door opens and the stem rolls out of the room filled with salvation. A man stands in the back with his arms hooked around two older woman as he speaks in tongues and they grab at the holy spirit round him. A Reverend doses not hesitate to welcome each face in to the service with a hallelujah and a rhythm into the next lesson.

An escape from reality, midwestern hatred. A congregation built on reality, truth and no need for the change in your pocket because the people around you create the environment. No need for the red velvet stage, silk suit or convoy of buses. No competition. No white man kneeling on stage, crude fake tears of redemption. No bones under the porch. But, that's not how it is today.

FOR THE QUEENS OF '66 WITH LONG HEELS AND HEAVY PURSES

In the Tenderloin district of San Francisco there was a safe haven from the transgender "queens" and the rest of the gay community. Imagine a cup of coffee and a smoke, while sitting at a aqua –blue booth with chrome trim and smooth white porcelain coffee cups.

Six queens that a break from walking the street. They lean back in the vinyl booth, gently kick off their heels and itch their legs with their nylon covered feet. They hold quarter mile Virginia Slims between two perfectly manicured fingernails, while resting the elbow of their free arm on the cold sticky table. They place the palm of this free hand on their cheek and gently glide an index finger to their hairline, adjusting their meticulously placed, centerfold, and synthetic hair. When they order an other cup they are careful to wave a safe waitress. They scan the cafeteria and when the young face walks over with her pen and pad in hand, the queen pushed herself up in the booth and places a hand delicately over her Adam's apple, clears her throat and orders the cup.

Salvation from Meth and Gay Prositutes, for only $50.00 a month

Save the children! Bring em' home! I can feel the pain in your left knee because God tells me when I squint my eyes closed, But…he only speaks to me when the soft-box halogen lights are on me; when the make up lady is around to powder the liver spots on my nose. Gods around when that camera is a rollin'. I sit in my plush chair and I leg-press my Lincoln SUV to show the world that god can give you strength. I send bags of grain and install wells in desolate countries. I build them schools…but only if you rejoice to my GOD. I am GOD. I can save you all. All of your problems will go away with a simple rush-order, VISA card order to the savior himself.

Moved and new thoughts

I recently moved from a large industrial studio space. After months of looking for something new, affordable and close to home I have given up and made the decision to attack my 100+ year old basement with a broom, hammer and work from home.
So far the transformation has gone well and no flooding!

Hotel is open

Its been almost one year since the construction of the hotel began and it is officially open. October 10Th will be the grand opening.
I have encountered many local artist that took part in the design and artistic elements of the hotel. The Iron Horse Hotel is truly a forever standing example of Milwaukee's rich history and respect for art, preservation and industrial metal working.