December 2008 – Page 2

Miss Alma

Posted on December 5, 2008 by Varg

Alma R. Watkins After the storm, we had folks leaving and other folks moving in. Among those who moved in was Miss Alma and her mother Myrtle and disabled son Steven who needed at-home supervision. They were great neighbors and I spent many afternoons chatting with Myrtle on her front porch and occasionally dropping her…

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Who’s Scruffy Looking?

Posted on December 4, 2008 by Varg

From this story… New Orleans mother is arrested seeking to avenge son’s killing Shawntrell Hills didn’t trust police, had little faith in the criminal justice system and wanted an immediate resolution to her son’s slaying, relatives said. Her son, after all, was a known Central City cocaine and heroin peddler, the kind of victim they…

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Cleaning Up

Posted on December 2, 2008 by Varg

The Raleigh News and Observer has taken steps to curb anonymous postings on their online blogs. Bravo for them. Though, it seems their course of action could easily be gotten around by someone with enough will. And if I know anything about bigots and racists, they certainly have the will. That’s sort of the problem…

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Delta Royale

Posted on December 2, 2008 by Varg

My perennial fiancee Romy Kaye will be playing with her new band Delta Royale at Mimi’s in The Marigny tonight from 10:30 pm – 1 am for anyone who lives in the area or happens to be oot and aboot. Grab yourself a free mp3 of Romy right here. Come out. Come out.

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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.