March 2010

I Get Chills…

Posted on March 31, 2010 by Varg

…watching this Treme trailer. “Do You Wanna” Clip Trailer: Day

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Huggy Bear Junior Possibly Headed Our Way

Posted on March 17, 2010 by Varg

New Orleans Saints visiting with free agent running back Justin Fargas Though I am very much in favor of keeping Mike Bell, I realize he has a better offer in Philadelphia and will be going to a team that always has the potential to reach the Super Bowl (though they rarely actually make it). The…

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Oh, West Bank!

Posted on March 11, 2010 by Varg

Some mornings, it’s like this on the bridge…

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Clubs To Avoid

Posted on March 10, 2010 by Varg

On one hand I am really glad Razzoo exists. As it concentrates all types of folks I’d rather not be drinking with in one spot in the Quarter. So rather than encountering these people randomly, I can decrease my chances of coming across them by staying a few blocks away from it. Of course, The…

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Blah … Blah …

Posted on March 3, 2010 by Varg

Blah… Blah..Blah… New Orleans’ inspector general has just released Blah… Blah..Blah… scathing letter Blah… Blah..Blah… Riley has recently tried to assuage public outrage Blah… Blah..Blah… cooperate with the Police Monitor and obey the law. Blah… Blah..Blah… Will he be fired over this? Will he be indicted for this? Will he resign over this? No, no…

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The Crime of Cover Up

Posted on March 2, 2010 by Varg

Charges Filed in Katrina Inquiry Picture this: A law-enforcement officer is operating in post-disaster area, cut off from any sort of central command. The mayor and police chief are on national television erroneously reporting on babies being raped. A large percentage of your colleagues have abandoned their duties. There are real threats to safety and…

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Shuses!

Posted on March 1, 2010 by Varg

Found this great gallery of muses shoes on Flickr.

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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.