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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 so on but not for any sort of monetary reward. No pieces sold despite the carefully laid plans of the artist. Sometimes this is accompanied by long, strange hours as well.

Every artist has probably done it. It happens. Not frequently for me. I even had a bit of a streak going until this Saturday past when I was finally revisited by the blank. Worse days are when you are blanked and then rained on. This also was the case on Saturday.

But it wasn’t the blank or the soaking rain that hung with me as much as it was a particular customer who wanted a piece. She had all the ingredients of a match made in Heaven, the swooning, the special look in her eyes, the touching. She wanted the piece. Then, inexplicably she said, “I am going to go eat lunch and if it’s here when I get back, it was meant to be.”

I wanted to tell her, “Precious sister, in the vastness of the Universe almost everything that exists is dictated to us by chance. Your existence, mine, the circumstances that placed you in front of this fence, your death and the deaths of all those around you will be meted out by circumstances through which you really have no control over. Physics will decide. Chaos will decides. Government will decide. The cosmos will decide. But you? You probably won’t decide. So here you are in front of this piece of art that you admittedly want very badly, that has been made available to you. Here you are, with complete control in the matter. So why, sister, WHY would you simply toss your rare moment of control out there and see fit to attribute it to chance once again? Because it isn’t chance this time. It’s you and your unwillingness to stir.”

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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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