two hundred ninety-four

It is time to let slumber befall the current artwork darlings and get on with the next project. In order for that to happen we must summon the souls of the recently created and let ‘em shine in a bit of the light. Spectral Wings is my latest painting series to see the light of day. These deep layered pockets of life were created throughout the challenging span of 2020-2021. Many were suffering from many things. The suffering did not escape me either – ahem, the painful growth. Whatever. Positive vibes. Spin on. And so like the good little artist that I am, I laced up my paint brushes and got to work channeling all the negative into vibrant, colorful perseverance. 

 

thumbnails in the studio sketchbook

For those too short on time for all the tiny wefts and weaves of this story, several of these artworks see the light of day in a Winston-Salem group show Sept. – Oct. 2023. Go see the show and come get yer free reception snacks on Tuesday, September 26th from 5p-7p. And here is the link to all the artwork via my website. If yer not full of yawn and ready to chew on a bit more on this yarn, here is the Spectral Wings artist statement: 

 

We are wearing sleeved emotions in layers of life wrapped in worn fabric and colorful yarns — keeping us in stitches. In the moment before the moment we fly, our soul is seen breathing light into our wings. This is life cycle and the threaded patched points. 

 

And so this body of work, true to its intention got layered up and then covered up. I’m draggin’ my tale a bit because there’s more to the story.  There is always more to the story.

 

In the fall of 2021 we learned that our landlord planned to not renew our lease. Legal and shitty for we were also struggling with the declining health of Eva’s mother as she battled cancer over in New Zealand amid their pandemic scare. Layers of life I tell you. The year of 2021 we got engaged, said good-bye to Eva’s mother, and had to not only find a place to live, but also move (the last three tasks within the last three months of the year & our lease). The trifecta was clamoring for a trump -- so, I had a studio sale. Several pieces from Spectral Wings including Mother Of found a new home to lovely patrons. Fitting. The patrons said I may hold on to these pieces through the end of my upcoming solo show. That’s number one and two of 12 Spectral Wings paintings and we haven’t even had a show yet.*

 

Mother Of

 Spectral Wings was created in part to fill a request for a solo show that never happened. It took about a year to paint this series – I remember hustling in the cold to get the frames made in the end of 2021 prior to moving. In early 2022 the solo show was cancelled two weeks prior to install. This is due to the venue Camino’s renovation project. Ah, but then they offered me another solo exhibit! Ah – but by then I earned representation by Visual Index, a Winston-Salem Gallery. Ah! -- and they won’t let me show in another space. Ah – but I then brokered the deal of having the Visual Index artists (including me) show in Camino for a three-month exhibit in 2023 (an event that will continue annually). So. Much. Good. From the labor and patching. And not giving up. 

 

Selections from Spectral Wings finally got to see the light of day in 2023. One painting got to breathe a bit of spring air during a lovely outdoor art fest on the SECCA campus in April (see blog entry two hundred ninety-two). Several made their way into private collections courtesy of Visual Index. It is my understanding Jalen Dalton, a North Carolina NFL player, or at least a person with the same name on the sales invoice, is the owner of one the paintings.

 

 

on a/perture's big screen

And then several Spectral Wings garnered favor as part of the a/perture Cinema’s 2023 Picture Card Series.  They got illuminated and blown up on the big screen in May this year.  Here’s a link to that video short.  It is these paintings that finally make their way into the gallery exhibition context for a fall 2023 show at the Milton Rhodes Gallery in downtown WS.  I’m excited to see these labor of love pieces shining on the white wall hanging with other talented NC artists, all glowing-like for the first time since they were framed in 2021.  They certainly took their time getting there.

Many scrapes and cuts and bruises and the color gets deeper as the layers of patches pile up.  Life imitates art and Spectral Wings is an exceptional no-exception to this rule.  Sometimes it just takes a bit more time, (two years?) to peel back the layers and get some light on the story facets.

 

 

 

 

 *As of this writing we’re at six homes for 12 of the paintings. More to come for sure. The funny thing about that is the last body of work, Looking Up was exhibited five times in North Carolina and not a one found a home. But that’s another mouthful to hear.

two hundred ninety-three

Old bottles.  New paint.

 "It should be gnarly.  Skin, sinew, boiled carcasses -- ROADKILL," was the reply (something to that effect) exhaled by Skintape co-mingling with cigarette smoke outside the downtown art studios.  The December air punched for a bit more.  The puffs, the ideas, the caffeine, the comradery.  Fresh and crisp was this brainstorm as the body heat slowly leaked out.  It went something like that when the four of us started to search for a common theme among our eclectic interests for the upcoming art show.

Skintape, aka Caleb McLaurin bends discarded electronics.  Jake Brewer has this trove of a fallow farm ripe with decaying animals and auto parts.  John Murphy uses scrap textiles to make celebrated stupid sock creatures.  And I was getting agitatedly inspired from ever present discarded items -- cans, bottles, clothing, and animals strewn along the roadway shoulder.  A storm was brewing and we were gonna have one banger of an exhibition in 2020 at the NC Arts Incubator Gallery over in Siler City, NC.  Kinetic roadkill with lights and sound; dead skin moving, trash becoming art; and layers of many insignificant things becoming a collective, collaborative elevated notion.

Completed spirit animals on found objects.

A banger did indeed hit.  While we were exploring Jake's ideas that it is the humans driving through the homes of animals that create roadkill and humans trashing the animal homes with litter, a disease was brewing.  We began making prototypes and intertwining creative practices.  John had us drawing creatures over fabric patterns.  Jake and Caleb were exploring how to cast bones and make forms to enshroud electronics.  I collected and prepared bottles and cans from the ditches along the road and we passed them around adding a scribble or two.  We picked up discarded shirts and planned to print art on them.  Double bagged roadkill was shoveled, sealed, and stored awaiting the next chapter.  Incubating this sick idea and choosing to follow our passions even as the pandemic spread and seemingly touched everything.

When spirit animals collide.

As life started shuttering in place, we learned from Michael Feezer, the new Incubator director that the gallery most likely will remain open for the slated show in August 2020 if proper distancing procedures were followed.  He stated, and we wholeheartedly agreed, "because pandemics need art too."  We decided the roadkill motif didn't fit anymore, but these dead animals transitioning to a spiritual place positively resonated with some of us.

Jake and Caleb bowed out, knowing roadkill kinetic bent awesomeness is destined for a future unleashing.  John and I plowed forward and planted seeds of spirit with a healthy dose of refreshing quirk and titled it all ETHEREAL.  A new plan formed and we had hopeful stars in our eyes amid this uncertain, shuttered, new reality.

ETHEREAL on exhibit complete with tin stars.

The show came together beautifully -- up-cycled plush creatures co-mingled with found objects -- and stars!  The rather large Incubator space and gallery had plenty of room for a masked, socially distanced attendance.  John and I also hosted a zoom walk through complete with pancakes one Saturday morning.  Parallel to the concept we made the most from what is a super challenging experience for humans.  Art prevailed and we found a way to find and focus on the positive.  This was our response to the pandemic.  Yes there were many, many ways that focused on the virus as a means of getting through the pandemic. Ours was sharing art destined to move your soul and fill your heart with light.  John's creations are incredible, equaled only by his insanely apt name titles.  I carried the signature concept of layering with empty beer bottles now containing spirit animal effigies.  -- and also made one-of-a-kind shirts featuring John's show title graphic and stars.  An ETHEREAL time for sure.

The up-cycled bottle & can spirit animals find

Bee Bear with a twist

another opportunity in the light.  On Saturday, April 29th, 2023 from 10a -- 5p the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art's front lawn turns into a colorful
collection of the creative.  The FUSE Makers Market descends once again filled with one-of-a-kind objects made by hand by artisans from all over.  It's a good mix of great art objects -- with stories attached a plenty.  Perfect for these spirit animals to dust off their wings, and fly again with a new twist & knot for you.  Come see them in the flesh.

       

two hundred ninety-two

Every Colour In Me, Detail

 "That is VERY good art," said the wee one, grasping his mother's hand and standing barely taller than the artwork propped up against the market table leg.  From behind the table upon the low stool perch with akin vantage of the tyke's I remember his eyes better than his comment.  They just looked right through with such fierce honesty.  Like they hadn't ever been blinded by inappropriate incandescent bulbs burning into our experience all things illuminated as life happens.

 The piece he commented on is called "Every Colour In Me" and was one of several original paintings seeing their first light of public display.  True to its namesake the painting is a patchwork of life layers seen as impressionistic ag fields surrounding a weathered, sweatered, slightly bent gent who smiles tall.  The booth was colorful too.  Right smart with a backdrop blanket gifted from Guatemala; recycled ETHEREAL stars glowing in the tent dapple; and of course multiple moments of mirth curated to showcase all things Les III with the Metal Mavens as part of their inaugural FUSE Makers Market onsite at the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art (SECCA) in Winston-Salem.

Mark!

It was a full day.  Full of smiles in sunlight; curious folks asking to learn more about art they behold; and those familiar with the creative sayers and slayers who remain quiet.  Some stalkishly quiet.  People from my past; folks in my present; new fans making introductions and acquisitions.  It takes all kinds to make a successful market.  When the art is on display for public consideration it is the public that has their say.  The connections made are real -- folks asking about black walnut ink and folks who lean in to hear about the roadkill spirit animals on recycled bottles.  Others inspired, reach out.  They say hello and tell me what they see as do the students learning more about tools of the trade and self expression as a career.  Thank you caffeine gods.  Thank you Krispy-Kreme.  Thank you Metal Mavens.  Thank you SECCA.  Thank you life partner.  And thank you, Mark -- lending support as a husband of one of the organizers.  And he along with other support folks walk around this event helping with heavy loads; giving the makers needed breaks; and keeping the morale high -- he earned a star in my book.

Among the swirl and rush and dusting of pollen the moment arrives.  The youth sees my art and stops to perceive all the life colour.  After his comment, the next beat is my question "What do you see?"  The little fella replies, "he has hearts in his eyes."

"That's because all he sees is love."  

    

two hundred ninety-one

It is a truthful smell.  It has been a while since that scent

The stage is set

hit my olfactory nerves.  Just like peering into an old photo though, the recollection of memories come wafting in.  It's a bit overwhelming for those of us who keep ourselves open via links to our senses.  It's funny -- some folks observe when you are overwhelmed and they say things like "come on, wake up.  You'll miss something."  Ha.

The stairs to Aaron's West Asheville apartment are ascended and that soft punch of truth hits.  Smells like fresh herbs, fresh bodies, and fresh ideas all wrapped up in an old two storey building burrito of domiciles, a market, a bar, and several other shops on the ground.  But I instantly go up.  Way up.  It's been building -- Asheville was home for a decade and there are loaves of experiences.  Some fond.  Some foggy.  Some, just plain ole crusty lessons of life (but with lots of AVL flavor).

no looking back

This time.  It is good times.  We've got some creativity at play.  Aaron, a well known NC musician has invited me to accompany him during his CD release party performance (see blog entry 290).  Instruments are brought on the journey: a freshly recycled canvas, easel, and of course, paints.  Most importantly there is the tool of inspiration.  "Les will you work on stage during the piano performance and create a live painting?" asks Aaron.  Sure.  That hasn't been done yet.  It's an opportunity.  It's on my bucket list to make a painting from start to finish in front of a captive audience.  The magicians make it happen right in front of your eyes.  Let's see what kind of rabbits conjure up.

We arrive at the venue, The White Horse over in Black Mountain.  Lights are trained, the piano is mic'd and we dance a bit with the stage layout to establish the best way for all to see, hear, and experience the upcoming performance.  There is also time to focus a bit more on exactly what is to be painted live.  It's not nerves that are forming.  It's pressure.  A bit of pressure forces decisions and feeds the real possibility of staring at a blank canvas on stage in front of an audience.  Oh, and there is only an hour and a half to summon & paint the muse.  I got this.  I got a can of caffeine too.

Aaron and Shalene amid the audience

The intimate venue fills at approximately 75 patrons. The house goes dark.  The lights on the stage make purple shadows.  My back is facing many souls.  My face is full of a stark white 4ft x 5ft canvas.  Thanks to Sara and her daughter, Desi for providing the giclee printed canvas.  Yes, the freshly primed canvas used to be a giclee (that's a fancy facsimile of an original artwork, folks).  Ha.  Layers indeed - I'll take a massed produced digi printing and make it a one of a kind, an archival Les III original.  That's what artists do -- we take elements of what already exists and make them into new experiences for all.  Thank you for the assist, ladies.

Aaron Price & Les III

The album of instrumental piano hymns Aaron is releasing is aptly titled.  Bob, the White Horse emcee introduces Aaron as an artist who contributes creatively to many bands and organizations throughout the area.  (Check out a sweet article on Aaron here.)  "Tonite is his night" says Bob.  And with that Aaron walks out and begins to create music on a piano.  The blank canvas begins to capture brush strokes.  There are several guests that contribute to the musical experience throughout the evening.  An invocation.  Operatic vocals.  I feel the prayers from others there in spirit.  The stage lights lay hot on my neck.  There is a wall of black just behind me and it is composed of souls hungry for art.  They are well fed.  The senses once again ignite.  I am in love.  Sharing with others.  Like the title of the cd, this event is an "Offering".  There's one available for you to nab here.

Thank you White Horse, Aaron, and all the folks who were part of the enjoyable event.

Anybody feel a title for the painting?     

two hundred ninety

The first strokes

"Can you draw this image for me?"  It's a question often posed to those of us who are mark makers and paintbrush pushers.  Sometimes the question comes kinda like a grade school playground challenge -- "well can you draw an elephant on a unicycle jousting a badger in a tu tu?" (Not a bad idea.)  

A curious aspect of making commissioned art is that sometimes you are being asked to create something that doesn't exist -- and there's the thrill for me -- and then comes the commission parameters, "It needs to be this height; this color; only in sharpie; the image of the unicorn need to convey a feeling of day-trading."  

I love that art is visual communication.  If you could say it with words or dance or music, then do so.  And each form has it's limits and beautiful aspects.  A musical friend of mine, Aaron Price hollered at me last fall, "can you create an image of a church on a hill for an album cover of solo hymns on piano?"  He and I worked together before.  We're mutual admirers of each others' creativity and have been for nearly 20 years.  Heck yeah.  

ill spec spoof (dig the fake barcode)

The project begins.  He provides me rough mixes of several songs to absorb and be inspired by.  I send him initial sketches.  Having worked together on another album cover, we kinda know what to expect.  With a bit of the ole back and forth, a workable interpretation of "a church on a hill" that Aaron envisioned comes forth.  

The project gets finalized with further tweaks and design layout by Mr. Phil Cheney of Cheney Graphics, another solid creative mind up in Western, NC.  We are getting close to the final image.  

The next time I see Aaron, its right before the winter holidays.  We trade smiles and he shows me a big stack of the final product.  His vision for the jewel-case cover included it looking like a well-used leather hymnal cover that's embossed with my artwork.   It looks great.  And the music sounds even better.  Check out "Offering" via Soundcloud.  Thanks for the spirited music, Aaron!

The maestro and his music

two hundred eighty-nine

This beautiful home is a blank canvas.

It was a tossup between a squid and a peacock.  But before which animal was decided, I had to answer the question as to whether or not I would paint a mural on Sara's house.  "Hell yeah," I said.  And with that we started thinking about the upcoming project for a private dwelling in the Kirkwood neighborhood of Atlanta, GA.

This beautiful taped paper is a blank canvas.

Man, peacock with the eyes and the colors and the feathers or the three hearted squid with undulating tentacles possibly wrapping the house.  Such a tossup here.  Maybe both?  They both have beaks.  Peaquid.  Squeecock.  Erm, we decided on the peacock, because it reminds me more of Sara; her colorful life; and the mythological reference to Hera and Argus and 100 eyes - a majestic symbol of our friendship.  Oh and her old bungalow seemed to be painted just right for the addition of a colorful bird.

This beautiful design is the accepted version.

A couple of preliminary roughs were sent and accepted prior to traveling to ATL.  Time was of the essence -- winter weather would soon be upon us.  So if a mural was to be painted, the Fates would need to be kind, and allow us to arrive at a satisfactory design quickly.  The bulk of the design happened while I was down in Atlanta.   I arrived on a Monday morning.  We worked on the design pretty much everyday until Wednesday at 11am.  There were breaks in there somewhere to take in the nearby graffiti; enjoy the trampoline with her family during the Thanksgiving Break; and share a bottle of Four Saints Brewing Company's "Helping Hand Of Ginger Imperial Wit" beer.

Nothing like a little bit of pressure to derive the design -- we got the green light late Wednesday morning, procured the supplies, and started painting on Wednesday afternoon.  Drawing to scale the 32nds and 64ths of inches was the most time consuming.  I gave others a headache just watching me.

This beautiful team paints the (left) canvas.

These beautiful rusted cans inspect the front left canvas.

The rest is a blur.  A colorful blur of smiles, community help, and flying paint.  We started cutting in the large sections on the old wooden clapboard siding.  But let me back up a step -- Sara worked from home this week.  She had already pressure washed the house for the upcoming mural.  She made and received all sorts of business calls (she sets up local restaurants with food supplies -- a busy time during Thanksgiving Week).  As a co-parent she also hosted her children and neighborhood children throughout the week.  She also hosted said artist and his design meetings -- providing constant coffee, food, Dark-N-Stormys, and feedback.  Sara also put together a Thanksgiving meal for 15.  See what I mean by the goddess Hera reference?  And all fortified with laughter, grace, power, and elegance.  Yes, she made it look easy - and it was quite inspiring. 

The beautiful team assembles on turkey carving day.

Next thing I knew it was Wednesday evening.  The sun was about to set.  Work lights appeared and illuminated.  A space heater was ignited.  While stretched out on a ladder she hollered at me from the ground, "support is on the way."  Several more brushes got wet as I met neighborhood friends here to be part of the magic.  Painting a mural is one thing.  Painting a mural on clapboard, in the dark, and creatively directing others for the first time - is another matter.  Oh but the reassurance came from the patron.  "Les, you are so good at figuring things out on the fly and using all the resources available to you."  That's coming from the co-parenting, high volume salesperson, who parks in the middle of a chaotic train depot parking lot, because she can -- and then directs traffic to not only get her car out of the jam -- but others as well -- and looks absolutely, naturally fabulous while doing it.  Mad-situational-can-do-high-functioning-woman.

The beautiful almost-completely visible canvas.

They say the finished painting is but merely the residue of the creative process.  I'd like to cite this experience as a reference to this concept.  Yes, the mural is pretty cool.  It integrates vibrant imagery and color into the existing structure.  Image and house now coexist  and the viewer has to walk about the outside of the house to experience the entire mural.  But the process -- 50 hours of designing and redesigning during the week of the painting and previous R&D from within the local library.  And then all that magic during those hours of painting -- neighborhood folk stopping by on their walk to inquire.  Catching a glimpse of a car slowing down to take a better look.  The ethereal passing 'oohs and aahs.'  The folks at the paint store getting jazzed when they hear about the project and one employee's discovery that her children play with Sara's.  Constant feel good music from Sam Cooke, Leon Bridges, and Alabama Shakes  while painting with others.  Catching up with dear friends, and making new ones.  Sharing brush techniques with others from 20 years of painting and learning about new ways to paint too.  And finally, hearing from my patron how happy she is to know that she will walk up to this house and see the residue of these experiences.  Every. Day.

two hundred eighty-eight

One of the practice sketches

“What you got under the tarp, Pete?”

"-- a 1967 Chevrolet Impala Coupe.  It's my first car."  We peer underneath and I get a whiff of something good: great American auto art.

“Lemme draw it,” I say.  He replies that he’s got one better than that, and shoves a heavy, metal, super detailed, to-scale smaller version of the same model year.  Also an SS, 427 cubic inch, eight cylinder.  It's not better.  It's not his first car -- the one with loads of stories and emotion, and in that beautiful Marina Blue body color.  But that life sized car will not share any stories if it posed for me.  It would not fit in my studio either.  

This is a side project for me.  Draw a car from life.  True, it's a model car, but tasks like this help me stay tuned up.  Life drawing is great practice.  The artist must use his/her facilities to transform a three dimensional object into a two dimensional drawing.  That's easy, right?  You'd be surprised how many artists don't do that.  They may make tight renderings, but they're not always using life drawing skills.

The final approach begins with a pencil sketch

Check this out: look down the street sometime.  Close one eye and look at a fixed scene. Then alternate closing and opening the opposite eye.  You see slightly two different scenes.  Objects slightly shift from the left to the right eye.  Open your two eyes together and you get stereo vision.  And when you draw from life, you are translating that stereo vision into a pencil drawing that's in two dimensions.  That's what a camera does when you take a picture (you close one eye to make a photo, right?).  So, artists who work from a photo often are using the camera as a tool to transcribe the 3D data into 2D.  And artists have been doing this with the camera obscura and other pinhole-type devices since, heck, forever.

But for me, it's fundamentals -- practice: draw from life.  No cameras.  No rulers.  Yeah -- the power of observation.  It takes longer, but by studying form one has a better understanding of form.  Took me several months to create the 12" x 14" Impala drawing.  That's not because it was that technically demanding.  It was practice.  I did it in my spare time.  And I worked on the rendering when I felt the desire to work on a tight little drawing -- certainly not the approach the big gun artists employ.  Or do they?  Dunno.  

laying in the white marker

I drew the car several times: in profile; three-quarters; with pencil; and with ink pen.  The goal here is to get a more firm understanding of the object.  How many sections compose the grille face?  How are the circular wheels distorted into ovals in perspective?  What is the most favorable position of the car to feature the chrome and high contrast, and dark tires & undercarriage in the most dynamic way?  See, a photograph where all that is already sussed out is much, much easier to work from than actually learning the form and composing the drawing.  However, as a professional visual communicator I feel I must have a firm grasp on the comprehension of the individual components of an object in order to tell a visual story -- or at the very least be able to create an illustration full of competent strokes from practice, practice, practice.  A jazz musician is not improvising a solo if he is reading notes.  A jazz musician is unable to give a solo if she doesn't know what the chords are or what notes are in the chords.  Practice, practice, practice.

the final artwork with sun ray smiles

For the final rendering I chose a toned, neutral gray paper.  I also set a goal to use a black india ink felt pen and white acrylic marker.  Why?  It is important to me for this exercise to re-acquaint myself with mid-tones (paper), highlights (white acrylic), and dark tones (the black pen) and make them all play nice in a dynamic way.  Its a technique challenge to self.  Along the way I also want the drawing to not look 'labored'.  And with marker, the stroke must be crisp with each pass or it looks labored -- like you don't know exactly where to put the stroke -- like the artist is searching.  (Hence all the aforementioned practice drawings.  I gotta know that form.)  But, yes, working from a photograph would be much easier -- boring, and less creative, but easier.

Towards the end of the final drawing, the marks become fewer between the minutes.  The strokes begin to carry more weight.  Less is more, more is less.  And then there were a couple of times I'd make a stroke and then walk away for an hour or so -- or even over night.  Sure, it may sound a bit fussy -- but that's how you keep from overworking an image.

When Pete, the owner of Absolute Automotive Garage in Asheboro saw the finished drawing, he asked to put it up on display in the waiting room of his shop.  And so it was placed not far from a gorgeous coffee table book celebrating the muscle car art of Chevrolet.  And yes, my drawing isn't perfect.  It is an honest impression of my desire to render and take down the clean lines, bits of highlight, and large angles of a great American art - and glad to see this illustration is among friends.             

                   

two hunded eighty-seven

Image by Natalie Garcia

It has often been said that a visual art exhibition reception is kinda like a wedding reception.  The guests of honor are surrounded by loved ones and well wishers.  Everyone wants a moment with you.  There is little time to eat anything.  There is a delicate dance of enjoying your moment in the limelight the way you want to and making yourself available for the public.  So yes, although I have not experienced a wedding reception from the groom standpoint, I would say an art reception is similar to a wedding.  My wedding experiences are loads of fun -- the food, the smiles, the dancing, the people you don't know but are sharing a heartwarming experience with.  Yep.  Good times.

The first Friday of October, 2017 was no exception.  It's been about 20 years of art making for me.  There's been over 100 exhibitions and receptions of my work alone that I've attended.  I tell folks that my art receptions are more like work meetings with alcohol.  On this Friday night, Four Saints Brewing Company celebrated my Art Wall Project.  Those following along in the Les III playbook know about this project -- I designed it to feature five artists and their one-of-a-kind artwork on an 11 foot taproom wall.  Each artist exhibits their work for three months, design unique tie-in merchandise, and the community is invited to interact with the artists along each of their creative journeys.  If you are not familiar with the project check it out over at the NC Beer Guys blog here.

Image by Natalie Garcia

It's a bit challenging to be the artist and the project facilitator.  I asked for help on my project several times and I gotta hand it to FSBC -- they were as helpful as they could be along the way.  Granted their first area of interest is connecting fabulous craft beer with the public (and they do a delicious job).  The fact they were able to reach out a bit more and help me with the art reception shows you how much they enjoy these creative side projects.  Thanks, Guys.

So here we are -- an 11 foot wall has a fresh new large scale canvas painting to unveil and display.  And with many art receptions the public was invited to view the new art and enjoy some munchies.  The taproom also had fresh craft beer to sip.  One of the new beers served at the event was an imperial ginger wit. It was a collab-o effort between me and FSBC Head Brewer, Andrew Deming.  The beer was on draft  for the reception and featured a custom tap handle from another creative colleague, Ian Thomsen.  There was also a display erected of the ginger wit in 32 ounce bottles.

Image by Natalie Garcia

The bottles were special.  Each of the 50 featured a one-of-a-kind enamel drawing of various figures in similar poses to the main artwork.  Each bottle was signed by the artist.  And they looked great on display during the reception.  The "Helping Hand of Ginger" Imperial Wit Beer gives a wink and a nod to the project artwork, "Helping Hands Give You Wings."  All the figures whether on bottle or canvas feature wings made from supportive human hands.  At the close of the reception the new patrons were able to take home their purchased bottles of beer.

That night the taproom also featured a sprite open mic with many wonderful songs performed and a Hawaiian food truck on premise.  Man, it was fun - and what a great way to celebrate a fantastic year long art project with a local business.  

From left: Andrew Deming, Les Caison III, and Joel McClosky

And just like that, it was over in a flash.  Thanks to Natalie Garcia, from Greensboro's Yes! Weekly for covering the event.  These photos rock.  A a big thanks, again to Four Saints Brewing Company -- Joel & Andrew and all the staff.  You rock too. 

   

two hundred eighty-six

Each Four Saints Brewing Company's Art Wall Artist gets to design his/her own merchandise.  Limited edition merchandise.  For sale.  And each artist will be paid a portion of the profits (if any).  I am not the gambling type - but this is the risk I pitched to FSBC as part of the Art Wall Project.  The brewery owners, Joel and Andrew accepted.  The five artists who were selected for the year and a half long project also accepted.  Now it's about designing support merch to go with each artist's main project - that 11 foot wall in the taproom.  Each artist was selected based on the strength of their proposal to design an original artwork to be installed & on exhibit for three months in the taproom.  They also had those merch items to design.

A variety of art forward products emerged.  Every artist went with the limited edition Art Wall t-shirt.  Each design was innovative -- and FSBC sold out of almost each shirt.  Some of the other art products included a custom beer stein, full color stickers, posters, and then it was my turn.

Thanks, The Wearhouse for the tight shirts!

First off, the t-shirt.  My Art Wall Project featured an image of a man who is being supported by others for the first time.  He has angel wings made of others' hands.  The title of that 10ft monolith is "Helping Hands Give You Wings."  Read more about it in post 284.  That large artwork originated as the anchor piece for a series called "Looking Up."  Each painting from that series explored how we use what we have to go forward in life.  Read more about that series in post 259.   For the Art Wall Project the initial sketch found in my sketchbook served as the forthcoming t-shirt design.  It is rough, raw, and exists as flowing, linear pen marks.

A significant element of this Art Wall Project was to incorporate the community into comprehending the components of the creators' art process.  I took that to heart.  Hell, I proposed that element in the first place.  And so with the Les III t-shirt design the taproom guests could witness the alpha and the omega of the creative process: the initial spark of inspiration now on a t-shirt, and the big ole motif on a 10ft canvas.  It's not important that the viewer draws the connection between the two on their own.  There's a story bridging the two for those in the know to offer to those coming in for a beverage and (possibly) a creative massage (and message).  I guess it kinda leans into that conceptual, performative art realm - but it's backed by the hey-isn't-visual-art-supposed-to-communicate-visually notion that I favor and adore.  The backstory.  It must have worked -- the majority of the t-shirts sold in the first week.  FSBC ordered more.  They sold too.  Maybe it was good design?  Home court advantage? 

My hands tingle just thinking about all the fresh ginger.

As for the second merch design, I asked if I could wet my whistle with beer.  I proposed collaborating with the head brewer, Andrew Deming to create a special beer.  Furthermore, that limited edition beer would be available in special 32 oz. growlers.  And I'd like to further offer a creative connection with the community by drawing one-of-a-kind images on each bottle.  In the taproom.  During business hours.  Wish granted.

Andrew and I made a pilgrimage to Greensboro to purchase 13 pounds of fresh ginger root.  We worked together in the brewhouse and brewed the 30 gallon batch on a small custom system - after peeling all the ginger, of course (thanks, Mark!).  Andrew showed me how to place the live yeast cultures into the batch along with all the other tasks that roll into the beer making process.  We ended up with an imperial ginger wit.  The official name is "A Helping Hand Of Ginger Wit" and it tops out at 8.5 alcohol by volume. 

Mash!

The deadline for the the various elements to this rather unique project kept getting pushed back.  We were charting our own course and many folks were helping with the process - including label designers, label printers, and the NC ABC Board.  This was but one small project on everybody's full to-do list.  The six month delay helped though -- it provided me more time to work out the kinks of creating a stable mark making process on slick, cold/condensate-able, glass bottles.  And allowed me to create the 50 unique drawings at a bit more enjoyable pace in the taproom and thus encourage people to watch on, ask questions, and contribute to that creative community involvement element.

Progress of the process.  Image by Katherine Hagen

For instance Wayne, a FSBC taproom regular stood over my shoulder one evening and watched me draw on several of the bottles .  It was about Oktoberfest time.  He mentioned he'd buy a bottle of the ginger beer if I'd customize the bottle figure - make him wear lederhosen and fashion him with a Tyrolean hat.  Done.  Sold.  And then Wayne began to share with taproom patrons about his art experience.  Others did as well - one guy, Eddie asked if he could buy a specific numbered bottled for his wife's upcoming birthday.  Yes.  Dr. David asked if I'd draw an image of his daughter on a bottle.  Yes.  Lou wanted a guy wearing goggles and an old aviator's leather hat.  The stories go on.  I hoped they were shared over the bottles of beer art too.  Makes me a bit cheery.

two hundred eighty-five

Turn Around

The call for entry requested artwork that was so sweet it was a bit dangerous.  I got that.  I gotta whole show about this topic.  Back in August 2016 there was the debut of "Going Down" over at Winston-Salem's Ember Gallery.  It was a series of mixed media paintings exploring various mythological demons enjoying their dastardly work (check out post 276). 

These artworks are loaded with pepto-pink hearts and evil creatures in love with what they do for a living.  See, it may be evil but they loooove what they do.  Is that so bad?  Or more to the point I was encouraging folks to consider the concept of how something so dark could also be full of love.  Juxtaposition themes rule in my fine art and this series is no exception.  I bet there are many out there who also connect hearts with devils.

Back to "Sweet N Low" -- that's the name of the international exhibition hosted by the Bedford Gallery in Walnut Creek, California.  And of the plethora of artists selected for the task, Margaret Keane (big eyes -- look her up) was included (and inspired?) the show.  It was an honor to show in the same large ass gallery with her and all the other artists.  Leading up to the opening reception the Bedford Gallery posted lots of enjoyeable pre-game images, and sent a stack of cool show cards.  Such great talent to be hanging with -- so damn sweet.

showing your cards

Several available artworks from Going Down were sent in for the Sweet N Low consideration.  The jurors were Susannah Kelly and Neil Perry from Portland, OR's Antler Gallery and Evan Pricco, Editor-In-Chief over at Juxtapoz Magazine.  In addition to that star studded lineup the show title - the show title: Sweet N Low simply called to me.  Low brow.  Sweet, sugary images.  How much more of a good fit does one need?  And here too -- on the left coast an exhibition was being organized that celebrated this genre of art.  I feel my work is in this similar vein and it flowed.  I didn't feel alone.  I mean, there are plenty of low brow artists.  I'm not a low brow.  Nor am I a regular devil painter.  It all just flowed deliciously.  Go team.

"Turn Around" was selected.  It's an image of a dark, "twisted bunny" -- so dark and yet the figure is internally illuminated by rosy hearts.  The cute, red eye demon is also silhouetted by a melting pizza moon, and, what else, feathers - so sweet 'n low.  Off he was shipped to the show.  I decided to not go.  I mean, eat for a month or attend an art show in California.  Life choices were made.  I got plenty of jabs from my local friends for not going.  I like to eat.

sharing the love

As luck would have it I got a plug from an attendee of the show.  She posted on Instagram several images that she and her partner enjoyed over on the left coast.  We typed a bit and shared thank yous -- she even mentioned that my piece was her partner's favorite of the show.  And many other attendees and artists did the same thing -- post images from their experience with the exhibition.  It was a first time for me to benefit from the intertube virtualness.  So nice and dark.

The show runs June 22 - August 27, 2017 at the Bedford Gallery located in the Lesher Center for the Arts, 1601 Civic Dr, Walnut Creek, CA.  Bring yer fuzzy horns.

two hundred eighty-four

Home stretch?!

I see large canvases in the museums and galleries and think, "wow.  Large canvas."  Maybe that's not profound to you.  To me, it's huge.  Five feet canvases.  20 feet canvases.  With pain on them.  With paint on them.  Many thoughts rush through my head.  What's it like to have a large studio to make large canvases?  Remember painting life size?  Larger than life size?  Remember stretching out & using a full extended arm to paint strokes and pacing back and forth -- dancing with a canvas in progress?

Back in September 2015 my chance to paint large presented itself.  The owners of a new local microbrewery approached me.  They know I paint art and asked me to submit a proposal for a mural on an 11 foot wall in their new tasting room.  With knowledge of their budget I provided Four Saints Brewing Company a project that would enable four artists to make art for the public to consider.  CEO, Joel McClosky and Head Brewer, Andrew Deming accepted my proposal.  The FSBC Art Wall Project was born.   

Many passes for one coat of gesso

A call was sent out for visual artists within a 70 mile radius of the brewery.  Those interested would submit a project idea for the 11 foot wall.  They would be paid to create a brand new work of art on the wall.  It would be on display for three months.  Each project would include some form of public involvement/witnessing of the creative process.  Each artist would also need to submit two commemorative merchandise designs for sale while they are on exhibit as featured artists.

We got five solid, diverse proposals for the project including yours truly.  FSBC decided to hire all five artists and away we go.  Each project brought with it unique opportunities to share creatively with Asheboro's community.  One artist painted portraits of "Asheboro Saints" on location on Sundays of July.  One artist team used reclaimed wood from the previous iterations of the brewery building.  Another artist took his first crack at a public art commission and donated the proceeds from the auction of his artwork to the local humane society.  Another artist's project was selected by an undergrad student to be featured in a college journalism class project.  And the merchandise ranged from custom stickers to limited edition t-shirts, mugs, and custom beer bottles.  This leads up to my project.

here comes the color

As the manager for the Art Wall Project and the closer for the first run, I had some time to mull over what I was going to do on the 11 foot wall.  I kinda had the idea -- and a whole year and a half to sit on it.  I decided to crop an existing painting, blow it up and paint it large.

Part of the project was fabricating the canvas on-site.  I had to.  There is no other space for me to create a 10ft x 4ft canvas.  Lucky for me FSBC has a custom wood regulation size ping pong table -- perfect for stretching a canvas.  Over two weeks I constructed, primed, and painted on my largest canvas ever.  At the close of each

sole sepia soul

work session the progress was mounted on the display wall.  When the taproom was open, patrons were able to observe the daily changes to the project -- from naked wood, to primed surface and eventually the finished painting.  A public work session was scheduled during one of the taproom's scheduled business days.  The painting portion of the project had begun by this time, and people witnessed quickly how one color can change the overall mood of the artwork.  Lots of folks commented.  People asked questions.  Beers were had.  Smiles were made among the future memories.  Helping hands give you wings.  More to come on this project.

two hundred eighty-three

an early sketch

What would my artwork look like as a t-shirt design for an airplane mechanic shop?  One way to find out.  Flying Leaf Aviation, owned and operated by Lou Pugliese is an outfit located in an Asheboro airport hangar.  He specializes in maintenance of three types of airplanes.  They're all Beechcraft.  Two are Bonanzas: the classic v-tail and straight tail.  The other model is the twin engine Baron.  These planes look super dope.  And Lou wants a dynamic image in my hand-rendered style of all three planes.  Heck yeah!  The scope is defined, the price is set, we shake hands and I take off.

-- to the local library (hi, Megan!) to find out more about these planes.  The first book I checked out had lots of interesting humor on civilian plane owners and the culture often populated by physicians and other suit-types for an uplifting hobby.  I think it was humor.  This is also the research segment of the project.  The plane history books were intriguing too.   Lift, pitch, yaw, and roll -- that's how planes move through the air.  A plane's age is judged by how many hours it has logged in the air.  30 year old planes are relatively solid machines.  And -- when the first civilian planes started coming out they were built so solid, they are the ones you'd oft see doing the crazy, stunt maneuvers.  I also read up on the history with the Wright brothers (bicycle mechanics!), the Red Baron, and other wartime tidbits -- and the international race to develop and patent airplanes.  Also, if I am to create an image

flying with Bob

of three distinct planes in 'believable' flight, I need a better understanding of what parts of the plane are in which position to achieve the realistic position in flight.  I do love logic problems.  Research also included a trip to the Pick N Pig smokehouse down in Carthage.  Yep -- in a 1957 V-Tail Bonanza with Bob, one of Lou's mechanic pals.  What?  Yep -- man, did that plane shimmy in the high winds as we crossed over the Uwharrie Mountains.

All this goes into the design of a commissioned art project.  The viewer may not see all of it, but any artist worth his pencils should invest a bit into the research of the project.  That is if the client is paying the artist money.  If you are anticipating free art in trade for exposure or beer then the artist should work as fast as possible to derive your finished project with whatever photoshop, stock images, and other quick, cheap-o methods available.  You hack them, they hack you.  It's just business, right?  Yay, capitalism.  

all graphite, all day

Ahem, so, yeah back to the drawing board.  With all that research and development, lots of sketches ensued.  And part of the challenge was to figure out how to get each plane model (the Baron, V-Tail & Straight Tail) into the single picture frame in a dynamic, believable manner and also happily coexisting with the details of the business name, address, and phone number -- all in one color.

Visual artists specialize in communicating with pictures - well maybe not all visual artists, but this little white duck does.  At least that's what I'm billing you for -- and that's why when people look at your custom shirt, they say - "damn, I hate flying, but I gotta have one of those shirts, Lou."*  Having a structured review process of the design progress is also why my clients enjoy their finished products. 
They give me their time and input.  We make sure we're on the same page and together something is created that didn't exist before.  This is a logic problem that eventually enriches others' lives.  I'm a creative problem solver and I aim for win-win results.

tail end fin

Lou was rather pleased with the  final drawing (as was I).  We critiqued over a few elements of the design.  He provided help on a few portions of the design that could use further definition here and a correction for accuracy there.  He had them printed up in a lovely array of colors and sizes over at the local printshop, The Wearhouse.  These shirts are now flying high in the sky as Lou gifts them to each of his clients upon completion of servicing their beautiful, flying, works of art.  Thank you, Lou!  

*true story