July 2012

12 Tips For The Proper Handling of Street or Market Artists

Posted on July 25, 2012July 25, 2012 by Varg

As a full-fledged, self-supporting, fedora-sporting member of the growing creative class, I present these 12 tips in the best ways to buy from and deal with street artists or market vendors… Do not devalue the art. One can try to bring the price of a piece down by pointing out what they perceive as flaws…

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Human Indignities Down Highway 90

Posted on July 17, 2012July 17, 2012 by Varg

A principle ethic of humanism is dignities, the natural-born right for any person to live a dignified and worthy life of their choosing and unmolested by those stronger, more powerful or with a greater willingness toward cruelty. The prevailing philosophy is, if each person always considered essential human dignity in their worldly actions, human rights…

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‘The Good Thing About Showers At A Second Line Is, Everyone Already Has Their Parasols’

Posted on July 16, 2012July 16, 2012 by Varg

“The Good Thing About Showers At A Second Line Is, Everyone Already Has Their Parasols.” The rain began at 4:30 p.m. in the metro area and continued unabated for an hour and a half. A group of Jackson Square artists and I met up at Matassa’s to get “warmed up” and then crossed over Rampart…

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Why Sister, Why

Posted on July 10, 2012July 10, 2012 by Varg

On Jackson Square, the worst thing that can happen to an artist who has set up for the day is to “blank,” not sell a single piece. The entire effort being financially meaningless. Sure, the artist may have passed out some cards, met some nice folks, visited with some friends, took in the sights and…

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Eulogy for Uncle Lionel

Posted on July 8, 2012July 8, 2012 by Varg

In marching bands, the bass drummers are usually big fellas. Not always, but often. It isn’t an absolute but it frequently works out this way. Big guys are drawn to big instruments. They bring up the back of the band like anchormen, guys who set the musical pace and thus the timing and mood of…

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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.