Showboat...September

Two show events coming up over the next few days, firstly Alex Salazar gallery is promoting an art event here in San Diego entitled Easel, which promises to showcase 85 local "emerging" artists. I shall have two pieces available there:

EASEL – A San Diego Art Af(FAIR)
Supporting San Diego Artists
Sponsored by Alexander Salazar Fine Art

Thursday at 9:00am - September 6 at 9:00am
1040 7th Avenue, San Diego

Secondly,the event that Mark Jesinoski and I have been working towards each Wednesday, is this Saturday. Speaking in Tongues is a mash up of the best in abstract and surreal art, collecting together ten artists from two camps-one that work's primarily from the head, the other from the gut. The set piece for show is the collaborative work we have been working on, and hope to complete tomorrow. I shall also be premiering the new large oil painting-Legend.

Details as follows:

Speaking in Tongues Art Show

September 4 · 6:00pm - 11:30pm
Mosaic Gallery

3422 30th North Park

San Diego, CA

I shall be firmly ensconced at the studio everyday from now until then.

Notes from an Easel-It's a God Eat God World

When interviewed about his classic -'I wanna be your dog'-Iggy Pop once revealed that because everyone seemed to want to play at being God, it might be nice to reverse the first and last letters and be a dog instead.

Taking some license from what Jimmy said, I decided to do the same and so by entitling this study piece-'It's a God eat God world', it gives it a whole other facet.
It was borne out of some of the feelings I've had about America lately, my position in it,the whole 'I'm alright Jack, bollocks to the rest of you' ethic.

It'd be fair to say that things have been weighing heavy on me. I entertain the notion of leaving the US at least every two weeks-perhaps moving back to Europe, or somewhere I've never been.

Here's Iggy from 79 doing it his way on the Old Grey Whistle Test.

The Blacklist Art and Film Festival featuting the art of David Van Gough

Simply blown away last night. Blown away by the enthusiasm of the attendees, the organization of the event, the quality of art and film on display.

The antithesis of the Raw event last month in fact.

Its a beautiful venue-like stepping back in time to the old cinemas of the 1920's that would have been called the Roxy. Gorgeous gold leaf trim, ornate nouveau flourishes-perfect ambiance for the contemporary cutting edge of art house cinema .In the midst of all my recent frenzy, I've become less discerning about my work, so its always reinforcing to hear how well received everything is also. I lost count of the number of cell phone pictures people took of my work-perhaps I should begin charging a fee..

The consensus on the Ghost series was the most marked, I mustn't let the pathetic commercial fortunes of their EBay showing, discourage me from continuing the series.

Knocked out a small study the day before too, for a piece I want to do for next month called 'It's a God eat God World', which was also well received.
Shall post scans soon.

On a humorous side note, I was approached by an old dear, who although made the comment that she enjoyed my 'oil technique', did trot out the old chestnut of wondering if I painted anything less 'dark.'

I felt compelled to remind her that she was at a Horror art and film festival.

Grand times.
The movie shorts by turns were eclectic and wonderful-the stand out piece for myself, a nine minute masterwork from Canada entitled Danse Macabre. I can only find the trailer online, but what it is something so innately part of my geography and the place where I live, that I'd like to post the piece in its entirety if I can, as it deserves to be seen.



So thank you Chris and Jeff Speed, my fellow artists and everyone who attended, bought prints and supported me with there interest and enthusiasm-you are the oil that runs wheels of my engine.Only wish I'd have felt less absent during the event, I was exhausted.Five days of heavy painting, five nights of swarez's finally caught up with me.

I need to take better care of myself, as I am fighting a sore throat.

On the plus side,my fingers are healing and the distraction of the last month is temporarily on hiatus for a week, so I can look forward to complete tranquil seclusion in the coming days.

Head Candy-Antsy and Arty

These Wednesday periodicals with the Jesinoski fella, are becoming a welcome diversion.

I envy Mark's setup-he sleeps on a makeshift bunk, in a studio converted from a chapel in the 'Bario'. Stretchers scattered in corners, painted canvases block light streaming through the windows, his dogs vie for a single sofa and beyond the black iron gates of his studio, authentic taco shops aplenty, served to you by ample bosomed Latina's.You also take your life in your hands after the sun goes down. Its keeping it real, and its enough space to contemplate, enough space to work. Not a single diversion beyond the hum of traffic from the 5 overpass.

So, four hours of experimental artistry, and who knows, perhaps nothing but the journey to show for it.

Blacklist film fest is pending, so too is the Mosaic and Salazar show.

The canvases will not paint themselves.

Notes from An Easel-disposition manifest

I'm a coiled spring. The last threads on a rope, one drink too many, a bough ready to break.

I'm on the cusp everywhere.A month of toxic affrontary has rendered my nerves as sensitive as the wounded fingers of my hand.Its all just noise of course-I own nobodies myopic world view-nor can I change it. People will try and impose it none the less.
My tongue is swollen from my clenching teeth.I've long since lost my nose to the spite of my face, but I fall further down the cracks of my own oblique obscurity.And whilst my contemporaries become media darlings, I realize it's petulance on my part, that I feel left behind.Meanwhile,ants invade my studio,like little black beads from a Dali painting, scattering in an ordered chaotic frenzy.It's like my disposition manifest.
I'm Antsy.

The work by comparison is cascading out of me like a rich, delicious waterfall. I've no notion where the forms are coming from.
It's like my disposition manifest. And I'm feeling furious at the world-I need to stop reading crap.
The news here is a like a huge bloated worm feeding the bigotry, widening the chasm between truth and the myth of America.

I realise I'm saying this nine years post 9/11.

I painted 'Blind Liberty' like I was having a shower, except the waters are stained and brown like an open sewer, spilling oil, blood and tea. I wonder if I'll ever feel truly at home here.

Notes from an Easel-Legend work in progress-session one by David Van Gough

Sunday night and letting the sublime sedation of a grand days work flow over me.

Without getting too psycho wankery about it, I am never more transformed than when I'm painting well.

David Sylvian is on his third rotation, there's a cool air moving through the studio, I've got nothing clanking around in my periphery and my mind is lilting on a hammock between two palms on a beach in the pacific somewhere.

The dark just flows out of me, like its trickling down my fingertips and through my sable.

Head Candy-the sun can wait

A week from the next show, and I'm feeling more than the burn of the heatwave.
I've never been so completely immersed as an artist-living and breathing it for ten, to fourteen hours a day-have I been faking it all this time-I don't know!?!

With all these show's, one would hope I sell something. Something's got to give.

Really want to catch some exhibits downtown this weekend-Renzo at Alex Salazar's gallery for instance,maybe even feel some sun on my face.

Except the sun will have to wait-seven pieces to nail between now and September 26th delivery date-going to be a long hot summer. Here's a song to remind me of the summers of my youth when I had nothing else to worry about except chasing girls and expanding my record collection.