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Author: Varg

New Years Day Sermon 2014

Posted on January 1, 2014January 7, 2014 by Varg

January 1, 2014 ‘cloudy with a sense of rain’ Gospel: “With the breakdown of the medieval system, the gods of chaos, lunacy, and bad taste gained ascendancy.” Ignatius was writing in one of his Big Chief tablets. After a period in which the western world had enjoyed order, tranquility, unity, and oneness with its True…

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Ode to Mr. Tybs

Posted on November 25, 2013December 8, 2013 by Varg

Mr. Tybs you were always a real piece of shit cat. You pissed on things. You raped Talula. You swiped at Doris. You puked a lot. You were annoying. You had bad teeth. You ignored the litter box. You never caught things. You didn’t play. Your purr was almost inaudible. You never loved us and…

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O’ Cypress, Beautiful Cypress

Posted on October 16, 2013October 16, 2013 by Varg

This summer past… wait, is Summer over yet? Let me rephrase. This past August, I stopped working in yellow pine. Just plain yellow pine and plywood and all construction-grade wood that really is in abundance, I stopped salvaging it and stopped using it in my work. This is the stuff you get at Home Depot…

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Scenes From Superdome Section 6000, Seat 6000

Posted on October 1, 2013October 1, 2013 by Varg

Many times I have heard Saints season ticket holder Pants tell of the goings on in Section 617 in the Superdome. And he has written about it well enough over the years. But I just wanted to add a few observations about it from an outsider’s perspective. I mean, I felt like a freshman up…

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Actually, It’s Fine.

Posted on September 25, 2013 by Varg

French Market Corp. hires Jon Smith as executive director after first pick declines job over salary dispute The first four paragraphs of this story are reminiscent of some passive aggressive cocktail party conversation. It’s all like, “Well…she KNEW we weren’t trying to pay her that much and, we ARE just a “public benefits corporation” that…

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Bacchus XXXIX

Posted on June 20, 2013June 20, 2013 by Varg

A lot of people, myself included, have a specific image of what they expect from King Bacchus in the Bacchus parade during Mardi Gras. First, he has to be kingly. He has to be up on that float, behaving royally. Not with sunglasses on like Val Kilmer. If Bacchus is an actor, he should approach…

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Art Auction for Deborah Cotton

Posted on June 14, 2013 by Varg

I’m donating a piece of art to the medical fund for the great Big Red Cotton. For all she has done for us over the years. This is a great opportunity to get a soulful piece of art for a good cause. Details below: Ebay auction is here. Starting bid is $1. 100% of the…

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What Kind of a Reverend Are You?

Posted on June 11, 2013June 12, 2013 by Varg

I get this a lot. It’s difficult to answer but, I’ll try and explain it here for the first time. Stream of consciousness style. I have fore a while just insisted that I’m not a “real reverend.” Meaning I just don’t think I am in a position to advise people on pious living. But then…

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Poor, Poor Grendel

Posted on March 11, 2013 by Varg

A portrait of the Beowulf monster Grendel as he is written in the 1971 novel “Grendel.” Title of the piece is lifted from a line in the book. Composition is directly depicted from cover portrait on paperback version of the novel by Emil Antonucci. On rough-hewn heart pine wall stud salvaged in New Orleans. Original…

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On ‘betty and the black dog’

Posted on January 30, 2013January 30, 2013 by Varg

A few times a year, for no emotional reason, out of nowhere, I get depressed. My “medicine man” theory is that it is tied into my gut and there is certainly some science to back that up. My genetic bad stomach is often acting up around the same time the depression shows up and the chemical…

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3 Noble Truths

Know yourself. Know the Universe. Know yourself in the Universe.

Rev. Varg’s Artist Statement

Rejoice!

I say that a lot. I sign many pieces with it. I do this because I believe our lives are a true happenstance. A brilliant occurence from nothingness. We are so rare. We are so unlikely. And simply being born isn’t enough. From there we must survive, endure. So each morning, after our Sun departs and is reborn again. Please, for the sake of your ancestors and the Universe in general, hoist that cup of joe up and say, “Rejoice.”

Ours is a soulful existence. No matter how many McMansions, polyester fabrics, auto-tunes, modified foods and social networks we surround ourselves with, we are all still native, passionate beings made of ancient matter. We are organic and we have soul.

Wood also has a warm, soulful quality. Wood has a memory. It retains smells, traumas, events. It even has a calendar. This is why I have chosen it as my medium, for its old soul. I like to think the wood in my work is in its third incarnation. First a tree, then a home and now art. If you have a room that needs a little soul, get a piece. A room can never have enough soul.

My inspiration and subject matter comes from many sources, among them: Humanism, old ballads, trickster tales, flora and fauna, science, myths and folklore, stringed instruments, brass bands, amber spirits, lady vocalists, general relativity and quantum mechanics. Some of my pieces are there just to make a short, simple statement about what’s important in life. Some are more diffuse and abstract in meaning. A personal drama, an enduring line from a poem or novel, a poignant song lyric, the legacy of an important person, a fleeting thought … these are the subjects of my art.

I use hearts often because they are a very abstract way of depicting the human soul without also employing the very subjective human form. The symbolic heart is an apt representation for a person’s experience and essence. A body can immediatly conjure happiness, sorrow, youth, age, anger, bliss. These emotions can get in the way. Sometimes it’s simply about the experience.

I am the son of a sailor and a social worker, the grandson of a gypsy, a dancer and a nurse. I spent my youth moving from port city to port city, watching a lot of road go by and reading World Book Encyclopedia. After my parents settled down on the Gulf Coast, I was a miscreant youth, destroying cars and taking the wrongs things too seriously and the right things not serious enough. Eventually I began replacing my imagination with experience.

I will use any salvaged wood but prefer swamp cypress and longleaf heartwood pine.

I despise waste. Particularly the waste of organic matter. Trees are magnificent. They were here before we arrived and they’ll be around after we are gone. I’m making an effort to save as much wood as possible. Creating art is fun too. But beyond communicating with folks, but beyond making money ad providing for myself, beyond rescuing flooded parts, beyond reveling in the ethereal aroma of heartpine that hasn’t seen the light of day in 400 years, beyond all that, I am trying to make a simple comment on waste.

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