Blogspotting – Page 5

Do Your Worst

Posted on December 19, 2006 by Varg

I came across the following post at Your Right Hand Thief and the stupidity of its subject, a Bridge City resident named Diane P., astounded me. A strategic Dollar Bill voter explains her rationale Diane P. is playing a game of “screw your neighbor.” She supported Dollar Bill in hopes of pushing her own non-majority…

Blogspotting 11/18: Everyone Else Is Doing It So Why Can’t We?

Posted on November 18, 2006 by Varg

I just wanted to add a few pics and point everyone to this excellent post over on Ashley Morris about how we stack up against the world in terms of flood protection and land reclamation. Pretty pitiful we are. This was also touched on in this Harry Shearer post and the ensuing comments. Palm Island…

Blogspotting 11/8: Drinks, Trains and Black Gold…

Posted on November 9, 2006 by Varg

– Right Hand Thief spotted a story that fills me with cautious optimism and maybe even a little bit of hope. Of course, Harry isn’t so sure. – Wet Bank Guide reports on signs of life in City Park. Especially sweet for me is news that the mini choo-choo is being repaired. That should make…

Blogspotting: 10/17

Posted on October 17, 2006 by Varg

– I was perusing some of the local blogs and I happened upon this post at Squandered Heritage. I can’t believe the HDLC wasn’t on those folks like white on rice. The HDLC made my neighbors saw a foot off their fence the DAY AFTER the damn thing went up.Â I suppose they aren’t in…

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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.