The Dragon's Unexpectedly Cute Spawn

Yes, I know I promised to keep the baby blogging to a minimum, but I've got relatives crying for blood over the lack of baby pictures.
Besides, just look at this cutie! I know drag queens who would kill for those lashes.

Amongst the overwhelming flood baby shower gifts, and even enough hand-me-downs to cloth an Appalachian village of infants and toddlers, was a 10 mega pixel DSLR.

One of the other productive things I've been doing, is working on an actual website for my artwork and photography and such. It's still a little barebones, but there is a gallery of baby photos. All the other galleries are public, but I've decided to require a password for access to the baby photos. I mass emailed a bunch of folks with the password, but if I neglected to send it to you, or it got caught in your spam filter, let me know and I'll send it to you.

I just figured only friends and family needed access to a soon to be vast archive of baby photos. Plus, my buddy Sky caught some flack for posting an innocent photo of his twins naked in their wading pool, a while back.... and well, I guess a little online paranoia is not a bad thing.

So while Honkytonkdragon.com is not fully functional at this time, there are some cool pictures up over there, mostly things I've posted here in the past, but collected all in one place. And there is more to come, of course. And if you have the misfortune to be one of the dragon's friends or family, and want to bask in the glory that is little miss Zoe, drop me a line, and I'll get you the access info.

Airbrushed Motorcycle Jacket

So, even though I haven't been blogging much since Zoe was born, I have found time to be a little productive. Take for instance the jacket pictured above.
I picked up the jacket cheap, it wasn't new, but it sure didn't look used, except for the fact that the design seems more late 80's than contemporary. The jacket was purchased with the intention painting it and selling it. Having a new baby is a great motivation for trying to find new sources of income.
The design was my attempt at something that fit into a traditional biker look, but with a little individual touch. You know, a portfolio piece. Skulls other assorted morbid images are ubiquitous in biker wear, and you can't get much more morbid than a deer. Riders face all kinds of threats and challenges on the road, but a deer, especially at night, is one of the most dangerous. Plus it was just a cool looking graphic which fit in with the lines of the jacket. Likewise, I'd been playing with Celtic knotwork lately,and designed that knot to fill the bottom panel.
So I'm testing the waters of Etsy with this one. It's for sale for $250.

The Dragon's Fragile Personality Shatters Yet Again

I guess I mentioned I have been painting quite a bit lately, and when I'm not painting, I'm researching painting and art links.
So the time has finally come to spin off another blog, the new one is called Ben Artstrong, and I'll be blogging more there about my painting projects and the rants they engender.
It's strange, Honky-Tonk Dragon began as a place to gather links and such for a graphic novel project which quickly ran into technical difficulties. But as that project derailed, I began posting about scooters, steampunk, and other topics. The blog took on a life of it's own, and Honky-Tonk Dragon became a character with a voice of his own which I came to appreciate, and classify as "lifestyle for weirdos."
Contemplations on art, and results of my own art making seemed to fit with that theme somewhat, for awhile. But lately I feel like they have been interfering with one another. Honky-Tonk Dragon seems more suited for ruminations on the fringes of pop culture, and when I have the inclination to write more seriously about fine art and aesthetics, it just doesn't seem like quite the right fit. Which means I end up not blogging about things which would fit in well on the Dragon, and not writing about the artistic subjects either. My hope is that by splitting the blogs, my online writing will increase.
I'm sure there will be instances where I will cross post, such as when I finish the current revisions to Quell, the Steampunk Vespa. But all in all, I'm hoping this expansion will help you the reader find the type of posts you are looking for quicker, as well as more effectively promoting my artistic endeavors.

The Artist as Parent

Blessed Mother by Kevin Kresse

I am so overwhelmed with various emotions about being an expectant father, that it has been very hard for me to blog, or do much else productive.
I've been organizing the studio, though, as I have the premonition that this surge of feeling will eventually manifest itself in some creative work.
Though we are socially conditioned to see artists as hedonistic libertines, the connection between creativity and reproduction makes a certain sense to me. But as I try to wrack my brains for examples which illustrate this connection, the only one I can come up with is one of my artistic heroes, Kevin Kresse.
Kevin and his partner Bridget, had just quit their real jobs in order to focus on developing his artistic career, when they learned they were expecting twins. From this combination of circumstances Kevin began a series of paintings which exemplify many of the feelings I am facing.

Take for instance this one, Outside the Ring of Marys

of which Kevin says: "The overall idea is about the limitations of being an artist versus the power of creating a new life."

A couple more of my favorites from his work from this period are Daywatch and Nightwatch:

I've always been struck by something powerful in these pieces, a palpable sense of anticipation which I've recently begun to understand all too well.

I have a feeling in a few months this sense of fretful expectation will give way to the feeling of overpowering protectiveness Kresse expresses in Papa Bear (Safe Mountain), of which he says: "One of two Papa Bear paintings based on the new feelings that children bring out in a parent- the need to protect and nurture."


I just thought I'd share a few of these with you, because well, I'd love to see Kresse get a larger audience, and I'm trying to kick myself into gear to paint more. I don't have much tangible to offer a child. But I can do my best to be a good example, which entails doing more with my talents and skills.

New Painting: January Sky

Just finished this painting, and I'm pretty happy with it. It is the most intensive piece I've completed in like four years. There are little bits I was tempted to keep refining, but a voice inside my head started saying, "Step away from the easel, and no one will get hurt..."
This of course is a reference to an old artist's joke:
Q: How many people does it take to paint a painting?
A: Two. One to paint, and the other to shoot them in the head, when it's finished.

If this image looks familiar, that's because it's something I've been working on for several years. It originated with a photo I took in my senior year at Evergreen.
This image of my good friend Sky was part of a series of digital photos I took of friends in bars. Here is the original...

While I did a little editing of the digital file in Photoshop, this consisted of nothing more than using the computer as a digital darkroom. I fiddled with contrast, color balance and the like, but the source was always one image. The image itself was made possible by altering the digital camera's settings to operate in low light with no flash, which is why it has the appearance of a double exposure. This is still something that interests me, the ways in which a digital camera acts differently than film.

Anyway, I've always liked the photo, though I had the feeling that I saw a potential in it, which others didn't quite grasp.

A couple years later, I finally got around to playing with the image again. This sketch was actually done on a plane, during my first trip out to CT. I'm very fond of it, as I am of the original photo, though for different reasons. It was one of the first serious sketches I completed after a long dry spell. It deconstructed the photo, which was very 21st century in its conception, in a very classical manner. That amuses me, in a perverse way. Plus, Jes's father, David, was very emphatic in his appreciation of the sketch over the photo. As best I can tell, David has very a sophisticated, albeit conservative, aesthetic. So, not long after returning home from that trip, I skritched down some outlines with vine charcoal on an extra canvas...
And then I let that canvas sit for a year.

So for my birthday last year, Jes and her parents chipped in to get me a new easel. A really nice new easel, the kind of tool, gift which demands use. So I started going through my stack of blank canvases, and there was that under-drawing. At the time, I was in the mood for some daring experimental work, and indeed I started several other pieces which are more abstract and non-objective. You can see the influence of this approach in the image above. But once I gotten to about this point on this painting, it had started to dominate my thinking.
At about this point, I'd abandoned all pretension of abstraction and non-objective painting. Unsatisfied with how the work was progressing based on those strategies and the original sketch, I returned to the original photo. There was something in it which had originally entangled my thinking about the piece, an ephemeral quality which was only hinted at in the sketch, and was missing thus far in the painting. At this phase, you can see where I attempted to do away with some of the more obtrusive mandala-like elements which had existed previously in the background.

There is no set interval to these work-in-progress shots. But I think the progression is interesting. Though not the best example, this work does show some sign of what technology can mean to traditional artistic endeavors. Though this work was executed in acrylic, smearing pigments on prepared cloth is an antiquated endeavor. Still, for all the convenience of modern media, this painting will be around centuries after inkjet prints have faded, and optical disks have become unstable. All our advances have yet to displace the smearing of minerals coated in a binder on a substrate.

At about this point, I began to be dissatisfied with the composition as it had been scrawled on the canvas in charcoal.
Oops. Too late for that. Well, I guess I started with some abstract intentions, so at this point I figure I'll just tweak the abstracting of the background and color strategies to compensate.

Almost done here, the magenta shades on the left side are pretty well finished. But it took several hours of work after this point to get the depth and texture which I felt the piece needed on the right hand side.


Though the depth that is achieved through varying layers of glazes, velaturas, and scumbling, can't really be captured by photography, you can see how the layers of colors interact. So some of the depth which is readily apparent in the actual painting is lost here, you do get a sense, though flattened, of how color was used in the piece, as well as some of the brushwork.

January Sky is 16" x 20", Acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas, ready to hang, and can be yours for $1000 USD. Contact information can be found on this page, or notify me of your interest in the comments.

(Edited 04/15/08. Posted better quality images of the final painting and the closeup. Also, removed text complaining about the poor quality of those initial photos.)

What is Art?

I've always loved Creature Comforts, but I thought it was just this single short about Zoos. So discovering this short from Aardman productions on art was a real delight. Then I found there are a whole bunch of these shorts available on YouTube on topics ranging from the upcoming presidential election to being a bird. Still this one above is my current favorite.

via Art News Blog

Mother of the Other

Since "Breaking Bad" is in reruns, I'm painting tonight. And going through my clip file, I discovered this blast from the past.
This mural is the largest painting I've executed to date. It was never titled, but I'm posthumously saddling it with the name "Mother of the Other," which if my beer-addled brain serves me right, kind of sums up the gist of what I was shooting for.
I was never completely happy with this piece. It was intended to be a basis for a "free-wall" during Freak-Fest, a neighborhood arts festival held in downtown Little Rock, on what ended up being the hottest day of the year. In fact on that particular July Saturday in 1995, Little Rock racked up the highest temperature in the nation. And that's not taking into account the humidity...
Anyway, my intention with the piece was to provide a basis for the artistic additions of whoever decided to slap paint to bricks. The wall was at that time the property of Dottie Oliver, publisher of the Little Rock Free Press, and she'd volunteered it for the festival. As the coordinator of artistic affairs for the festival, I'd hoped that by giving the graffiti wall an underlying skeleton, the chaos of hundreds of various artistic visions might end up being something worth looking at.
Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, Dottie loved my under painting so much that she didn't want anyone painting on top of it. The free-form graffiti ended up taking place on a donated VW Westfalia van.
This always bothered me a little bit, because well if I'd known I was doing a solo wall mural, I would have put a little more effort into it. So it goes, I suppose.
I suppose I should mention at this point that the paint for this piece was graciously supplied by Golden Artist Colors. Of course I would have used Golden anyway for this, as acrylic is the most suitable medium for outdoor murals, and well, Golden makes the best acrylics. Which makes sense when you realize that the late Sam Golden, along with his uncle Leonard Bocour, helped invent artists acrylics.
History of artist's materials aside, in hindsight, I'm fond of this mural. It melds several layers of my visual thinking from this time period. I'm hesitant to drain what little mystery the piece may have by over-explaining it, so I'll just leave it as a meditation on the other, the alien, and female fertility. In other words, the Mother of the Other.
This mural was on a wall near 7th and Izard in downtown Little Rock. I'd be extremely grateful if any of my Little Rocker readers could let me know if it still exists. Iain de Sane, I'm looking at you.

Vitruvian Barbie by Michael Morris

Well, it seems that Michael Morris read my belated post about his recent print exhibition, and was kind enough to send me images of my favorite pieces from that show.
Above is Vitruvian Barbie, which obviously comments on ideals of beauty, both classical and modern, as well as consumerism and mass production. Those themes seem pretty accessible to any viewer with a passing exposure to pop culture and art history. Digger a little deeper, I think there is some struggling here with the conflicts of art and commerce. This also seems fairly obvious to me, but this is a conflict I've spent no small amount of brainpower considering. Perhaps it would not be so apparent, or even valid, to a non-artist.
The appropriation of DaVinci, barely needs to be commented on. Except I'd like to point out, that to many artists, Leonardo can represent the pinnacle of "Fine Art." Not exactly "art for art's sake," Leonardo's works, especially his sketches, are the paragon of the concept of art as a means of inquiry.
A layperson can easily understand how art can comment on reality and human existence; can communicate existential, philosophical, and even scientific truths.
It is perhaps more difficult for the uninitiated to grasp, that art can also be an extremely effective tool for discovering those truths. And I don't mean that solely in the sense of the tired chestnut of "Truth is beauty, Beauty is truth." (Though the validity and import of that truism should not be underestimated.) Science and Art both involve intense study of a subject, intense observation. Leonardo Da Vinci represents to me, and I suspect to Morris, how disciplined observation links painting and the harder sciences.
An interesting example of how Da Vinci's art blended and melded with his science, is his study of water and hydraulics. This is an excellent example of how close artistic observation can be to scientific observation. There is also the interesting corollary of the impact the study of water had on Morris's work:

An emphasis on the elements is found in Morris’ paintings, and it was his experimentation with water that prompted him to pioneer the Massurrealist art movement 15 years ago.

“Painting water took a long time to learn,” Morris said. “I spent about six months on it before ‘Orange Crush’. Water is made up of secondary colors—green, orange and violet—and blue added on top for the reflection of the sky, then the foam…water is what got me started, it got me excited."

Of course, the artist and the scientist face a similar dilemma: How does one get paid to study, get paid to observe? Scientists, are perhaps fortunate in that they may still rely on the strategy Leonardo exploited, patronage. Of course corporations and federal agenicies now fund laboratories, rather than merchant princes... but ultimately that is a difference of semantics.
This brings me to the second artist who Morris alludes to with his Barbies, Andy Warhol. The use of repetition, the staccato rhythm of the army of jumping-jack dolls in their multi-hued uniforms, brings to mind many of Warhol's works, where one subject is explored with the same rainbow-tinted bass line. The fact that this subject is an artifact of mass-produced consumer culture, only reinforces this association. In fact for commenting on the effect of marketing on standards of beauty there is no better subject than Barbie. It is actually surprising that Warhol didn't attempt a similar work, though he would not have executed it with the complexity and humor that Morris has.
If Leonardo represents the artist as scientist, as an curious observer kept almost as a potentate's pet, then Warhol represents the artist as marketer, as a factory for images. Warhol, more than any other artist with whom the layperson would be familiar, represents the commodification of art. If one were to distill a single theme from his life's work, from his place in art history, it would be that images are products for commercial distribution, just like cans of condensed soup.
Interestingly, Morris, like Warhol, was an art director for many years. But he is doing something very different with that experience. While Warhol's Marilyns and soup cans were the epitome of cool or cold art as Baudrillard would describe it, there is something else going on in Vitruvian Barbies. The dolls don't quite fit the molds. They are held up to measure against the proportions of classical beauty, and they are found wanting. No other artifact of American consumer culture so sums up our standards of beauty, as does Barbie. Yet she doesn't fit the geometries of the golden ratio.
Some how, Morris has discovered an aesthetic cold fusion. The analytical structure of Vitruvian Man is cold, and analytic. The Warholian use of repetition and subject matter is cold, and even cynical. Yet in bringing these two cold elements together, he has created a friction, like dead twigs they rub against each other and they spark. The dissecting eye of impersonal geometric analysis is superimposed on plastic, and yet the viewer comes away with a sense of warmth, wit, and reassurance.
If even the unobtainable Barbie body-type doesn't measure up, perhaps we with our love handles, our oily skin, and our cellulite, are OK. The humor here is more than schadenfreude at Barbie's failing. It is a hopeful giggle that beauty is too slippery to be captured in simulacra. It is a chuckle at the realization that flesh is prone to joys and pleasures which fall outisde of hyperreality. It is the Monty Pythonesque protest of painting..."I'm not dead yet! I feel better!" It is art chomping on Samuel Clemens cigar, and ribbing us that, "Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated."

Well, I rambled about this piece far longer than I expected. I'd wanted to talk a little about my favorite piece by Michael, Homage to Munch, but I have some paintings of my own to work on, so it will have to wait for another post.
Oh, and having mentioned art and commerce, I'd be amiss if I didn't tell you that prints of Vitruvian Barbie are available from Morris's website. $140 for a high quality 15”x 15” gicleé print. That's a steal, art lovers!

Scooters and Art

Have I mentioned lately, how much I love my new job?
I'm sure I probably have, but today was the best day yet at work.

The day pretty much started with delivering a vintage Vespa to a customer in upstate New York. It was the first time I'd done a delivery, and I was very nervous about driving the shop truck with the hydraulic ramp. Plus, having just moved to New England, I'm not familiar with all the back roads and all that.
But Mapquest steered me right for once, and I had no problem finding the place. My problems began when I unloaded the scoot, and the customer asked me to start it up for her. The scooter was a mid 60s VBB Vespa that had been extensively restored in Indonesia. If you know much about Asian scooter restos, you probably know where this is going... On top of that, it was about 10 degrees out, not the best environment for any vintage two-stroke. Plus, the danged thing was flooded from the jostling of the trip.
Well, long-story-short, after about a half hour of kicking my left leg numb, and pestering Larry with stupid questions, hoping I was missing something obvious, I couldn't get the scooter to start. The customer, understandably, didn't want to accept delivery of a non-starting scooter, Larry even dishearteningly agreed that maybe I should bring it back to the shop.
I wasn't ready to give up though, having dealt with hard-starting vintage Vespas, and luckily the customer had a friend on-hand who'd had alot of experience with 2-stroke bikes. Between the two of us, and a can of starting spray, we got it to turn over.
Still, after taking it down an initial down the drive way, I wasn't confident. The bike was really cranky, and I wasn't confident enough in my mechanical analysis, or driving ability on a gravel driveway coated with icy compacted detritus of being snow-plowed, to really put it through the paces. I suspected the bike just needed a an "Italian tune-up", but really didn't want to drop it in the customer's drive way.
Luckily, her friend, who has probably been riding longer then I've been sucking fumes, decided to take it for a test ride, before we loaded it back on the truck. He kicked it over, and tooled out the long driveway onto the winding country road.
When he pulled it out of ear-shot, the customer and I both got a little concerned. We thought maybe it had died on him. But we got the opportunity to chat for a bit. Turns out, she is a portrait painter, and has a sidecar for scoot. Her plan for it is to load painting supplies in the sidecar, and use the scoot to paint on location.
Now, if you know the Dragon at all, you know this idea immediately made me very fond of this customer. I've have done extensive dreaming myself on how to tweak a scoot to be a Artistic Assault Vehicle. My current scheme, however involves an MP3 500 and one of these:

Oh yeah baby! Now that's $240 worth of pudding! Oh yeah!

Anyway, once the customer's volunteer test rider returned, he declared the scoot to be in good operating condition for what it is, a forty-year old 2-stroke Vespa on a cold New England day.

So I had a good time chatting with these folks. Especially the way the gents eyes lit up, and he did a little swaying dance when he talked about the possibility of getting a Mp3 500, sometime in the future. I hear ya, brother, I hear ya.

When I got back to the shop, another cool thing happened. A local architect, who's been in at least once kicking scooter tires, came in. Jim greeted him, and he asked Jim if he was "Psycho-Elf" on Modern Vespa. I poked my head up from what I was dinking with on the computer, and said, " Do you mean Punkelf?"
That's right, for the first time, somebody came into the shop looking for me, by internet reputation.
Needless to say, I was quite stoked.
Have I told you lately, how much I love my new job?

Massurrealist Micheal Morris

In my new spree of art blogging, I would be greatly amiss if I neglected to post about Micheal Morris.

Micheal is one of the co-founders of the Massurrealist school, and perhaps more importantly, a pivotal figure in my decision to move to the East Coast. Not that he attempted to persuade me and Jes or anything, just that I first met him and his lovely wife on my first visit to Connecticut. His energy, warmth, and openness really tainted my impression of New England for the better.

Not long after we moved here, Micheal had a showing of prints which was written up here. (OK, so I've been horribly procrastinating this post, and you'll have to scroll down a bit on the page.)

A can of orange soda floats amidst breaking waves, a blue square pattern floats up from sand to sky, James Seehafer says, “That’s what I’m talking about.” It’s the early 1990s, he’s talking about Massurrealism, and he’s looking at Michael Morris’ painting “Orange Crush”. Seehafer, the artist who gave birth to the word “massurrealism”, has found the defining image of the art movement he christened in Morris’ eight-by-four-foot piece. The Massurrealist entwines images of the outside world with that of the internal world while incorporating the idea of mass and it’s many connotations: mass as an adjective, mass as a noun, and Mass, the proper noun. A massurrealistic piece may include themes of mass production, mass media and mass transportation, mass culture, and the collective Mass of the universe.

A movement without barriers, Massurrealism embraces any and all artistic mediums; it’s the artist’s natural answer to a world swamped with information, technology and product. An emphasis on the elements is found in Morris’ paintings, and it was his experimentation with water that prompted him to pioneer the Massurrealist art movement 15 years ago.



“Painting water took a long time to learn,” Morris said. “I spent about six months on it before ‘Orange Crush’. Water is made up of secondary colors—green, orange and violet—and blue added on top for the reflection of the sky, then the foam…water is what got me started, it got me excited. Morris also plays with concepts of time, physics, and the weight of human emotion. “We associate our feelings with mass,” he said. “We talk about being heavy with guilt, we tell people to lighten up.” His work fuses the intangibles of the human condition with the fact of our environment and culture, creating images that somehow make sense.

“Art is a science, a way of understanding the world,” said Ben Armstrong of Redding, who attended the show’s opening. “It’s extremely valid, though often overlooked.”

See, I told you I was at that show. Seriously though, after that quote was transcribed, I had a great conversation with Michael about his work. It followed a similar vein, though I wish I'd heard his comments about the elemental nature of his work. Because, from talking to him, I know that he does see painting as a philosophical/scientific/metaphysical means of inquiry into reality. By which I mean that art can be a way, perhaps the only way, to rectify the disparities between our scientific understanding of the world, with our subjective experiences, our philosophical ponderings, and our spiritual faith. And if you think a pursuit that can try and reconcile these disparate impulses is trivial, then you haven't been paying attention to the news lately.

In case you are interested, here is the best description of Massurealism I've found:

Massurrealism is the realization of a quest that explores the fertile ground that encompasses both reality and imagination -- the conscious and the subconscious. In Massurrealism the artists combine images from the outer world (the Mass) and inner world (the Surreal). Massurrealism thus brings disparate sides of our life into direct association, juxtaposing personal symbols with the imagery of mass culture, often combining the conflicts themselves -- the hard, pounding throb of a locomotive (mass transportation) charging forward and the soft, yielding form of a woman,swimming above and away; the trendy sophistication of a cocktail with the simple innocence of inquisitive goldfish. What is real, we might ask. What is imagined? These new images offer a glimpse into a universal hologram; a view that points at something beyond just images; a vision that may explain nothing -- yet might just explain everything. As such, Massurrealism pursues what is perhaps the ultimate realism.

OK, so that is a little nebulous, as are most artistic manifestos (except perhaps the Futurists, but then those who support Fascists are generally pretty concrete.) But there is something there, and if you Google Massurrealism, you will most likely find the claim that it is the first major art movement of the 21st century. And you know, I'll buy into that.

Seems like since art hit modernism, it has fractured into more sub genres than electronic music. I mean unless you are a devoted fan of dance music, you probably have no idea of the difference between trip-hop, jungle, dub, and industrial, any more than the layman knows the difference between Abstract Expressionism, Neo Expressionism, Lyrical Abstraction, or Unitary Urbanism. Since the mid-90s, it has pretty much felt like the only real categories for art were based on price and the geographic location of the gallery presenting it.

I wish I could find good quality pics of his paintings "Homage to Munch" and "Vitreuvan Barbie".... Those two works best of all portray the combination of skill, pop-culture savy, and humor that runs through all of Morris's works... But in a few years perhaps you'll see them in the art history books...

You can learn more about Michael Morris and Massurrealism in Massurrealism: A Dossier which includes some original essays by Morris.

Online Tools/Resources for Visual Artists

So, like a relapsing junkie, or a backsliding Baptist, the Dragon has of late, resumed easel-painting in earnest. In fact, embracing this life-long obsession, has been one of the reasons why my posts have been so infrequent and brief the past coupla weeks.

To laundry list and extrapolate on the reasons for my seven year hiatus from my painting addiction, would an exercise in self-indulgence which even I am unprepared for. Let's just say that one time or another I've been guilty of the first eight items on the list above.

But, somehow pigments and binders are in my blood (probably literally, though I'm scared to take the tox-screens which might verify this.) My current proximity to NYC is inspiring, Jes is extremely encouraging of my creative endeavors, and she even says that I'm easier to live with, and seem happier when I'm painting.

Unfortunately, I'm not one of those artists who is content to paint solely for their own enjoyment. Someday I'd like to earn some recognition for what I do, and maybe even something resembling a living wage... In order to keep these hopes, and their inevitable shattering from once again interfering with or even halting my artistic growth and production, it is important to keep in mind "5 Facts Artists Have to Face to Succeed in Business"

1. You will not get "discovered."

Marketing your art is hard work. There are thousands of artists making extraordinary efforts to promote their work each and every day. Waiting for an angel benefactor or hoping for a patron, is just a way of procrastinating. You need to stop making excuses and put a plan into action to deal with the reality of the hard work it takes to get recognized.

2. You will not find a gallery that "understands your work" and feels as passionately about it as you do.

... artists have to stop dreaming about finding the one person out there who can be their "art soul mate" and realize that galleries are in business to sell art, and that is exactly what you are hiring them to do for you. They do not need to understand your work on every level, nor do they have to be emotionally moved by it...what they do have to do, is be convinced that they have the contacts and collectors that will like your work.

3. No matter how original you think your work is, it has been done before.

Originality does not define quality, quality defines quality. Regardless of whether or not your work is original, what makes art exceptional is the context in which it was made from an art historical point of view.

4. Just because your work looks just like Jackson Pollack, (or, fill in the blank) doesn't mean it's as good, or that you can price it the same.

The price of your art has very little to do with what it looks like, what it is made out of, or how big it is...it has everything to do with what the market will bear, supply and demand, and your exhibition and sales history.

5. You will not be able to make a living off the sale of your work.

Sales are great and every artist needs and wants the positive feedback that comes from collectors buying your work. But, assuming that you want to live above the poverty level in the United States, to make a decent living you would need to sell over $150,000 worth of your art to net $75,000 before taxes. That would make your net approximately $50,000 before you deducted any expenses for studio space, art supplies, framing, advertising or promotion. Of course, it is possible. But, if you keep waiting for it to happen without accepting the reality of the odds, you are doing yourself and your work a disservice.

These are condensed from an article on Sylvia White's Art Advice website, which I highly recommend. Her checklist for making the transition to becoming a professional artist is also required reading, if you find yourself at that stage.

Fine Art's relationship with internet has been strange... I've been surfing since the mid-90s and of all my obsessions it has been the most difficult to research virtually. There is whole essay at the least, probably more like a doctoral thesis, waiting to be written about why that is... but for now let's just accept it as a given.

Recently though it seems that artists are really coming around to using internet tools for promotion and commerce, which is freaking awesome!

Empty Easel's 8 Must-Read Art Blogs for 2008. You should also check EE's articles on online art marketing.
In particular, Empty Easel is the best place I've found so far for comparison's of the various sites that have sprung over the last few years which sell paintings. If that's what you are looking for, their market analysis of these sites could be of real use to you. They also have a nice comparison of their features.

Noticable omissions here are Etsy and Absolute Arts.

Another interesting site I've come across recently is MyArtInfo, which is kind of life a Facebook, or MySpace for Visual artists. it's still in beta, but the design is clean and attractrive, and they are an off-shoot of ArtInfo, a site from the folks who publish Modern Painters, so it just might maintain some art-school cred.

Speaking of art-school cred, here are some links to to some resources for polishing yours up:

Links to Free Art Education Online

M.I.T.'s 20th Century Art

By way of an endnote, this disjointed rambling was greatly influenced by a recent IM chat I had with my friend Gretchen, who is trying to get a photography business going. You should check out her site: www.gretchendrewphotography.com

Random Blather

Since I've moved to the East Coast, I've noticed that I pay a peculiar attention to TV shows and movies set in New York City. I'm starting to realize that somehow I've skipped a step in the East Coast artist development.
I mean, an artist is supposed to get established while living in the Bronx or the Lower East Side, and once they make it, they move to the country... better known as Connecticut.
Somehow, through the love of my gorgeous Jes, I've skipped a step, yet I still need to establish myself, artistically... Well, maybe that's another post...
Anyway... I guess maybe I just wanted an excuse to post this picture, Stargazing, which is by Kevin Kresse, who despite his lack of international notoriety is one of my top five living artists, and also happens to feature Craig Watkins, my best friend from high school. Needless to say, it makes me very happy... and despite my personal attachment to the painting, I think there is something special and unique going on with it. Something a can't really think of another example in Western art that really touches the same vibe... almost an illustration of Wilde's quote "We are all in gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." It doesn't quite capture the objective feeling of the painting, but it does encapsulate much of how I feel about Kevin and Craig.
So anyway, Kevin or Craig, if you are out there, and you are thinking about making a strategic strike on the Big Apple, I'd love to see you, and, well, I can offer you a peaceful base of operations in the country... Heck, you can even tell folks you are staying in Fairfield County, and play it off like you are the Big Shots we all know you really are.

Paying Dues, or Jimmy Olsen's Blues

Well, I've progressed to working at Vespa Ridgefield full-time, and am basically loving it.
I add the qualifier to that statement, because at the tender age of 36, it kinda feels like I'm starting all over again. While I enjoy everyday at work, everyday is also a reminder of how much I have to learn. The concept of the aspiring journalist starting out in a newspaper's mail room comes to mind.
Which of course brings to mind, Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen:



Though the Spin Doctors were basically a hippie-jam band disguised as 90's alternative, I have always been quite fond of this song. I can not think of a better example of geeky white boy blues that actually has some funk to it.
Perhaps that fondness stems from the fact that, when the song initially came out, I was starting my longest running to date career, a job which paid me entry level wages, yet required me to wear a tie, while I lived downtown in metropolitan area, and rode a scooter work. It was hard not to feel an affinity to Jimmy Olsen, the every-boy construct so obviously thrown into the Superman Mythos so that the perceived average reader would have a sympathetic character to relate to.
Of course, in American Super-Hero Mythos, Jimmy Olsen was eventually replaced by Peter Parker. In Petey, we have a character who is a stand-in for the geeky reader (and, ***ahem*** rides a moped in the latest film interpretations) while also being the hero/ wish fulfillment vehicle of the story. But Spiderman could never provide us with the beautiful tension, that is Jimmy Olsen's Blues. The genius of Spiderman is that this tension is integrated into the character, which disallows the potential of the emotion of "I can't believe my dilemma is real, I'm competing with the man of steel." Spiderman's tension is more post-modern, one of competing with oneself.
Anyway, these points are academic. As the Dragon's humble alter-ego already HAS his Lois Lane, his MJ, and is quite content with her.
Still, professionally, here I am paying dues all over again. It is a strange feeling, humbling, yet invigorating at the same time.
While, officially, my job at Vespa Ridgefield is supposedly something along the lines of Office Manager, in reality it is do whatever I am able to. And right now, due to some obstacles beyond my control, I am unable to do a lot of the duties I was hired for. Instead, I am doing a lot of gopher work. And, honestly, I don't have a problem with that. I'm learning the business from the ground up, or basically, paying dues.
Today, for instance, I spent a lot of time cleaning and detailing bikes on the showroom. Now, it would be easy to see this task as a tedious and thankless one, yet I quite enjoyed it. Bikes are quite sensuous, easily an example of the kind of erotic technology which Cronenberg explores in many of his films. I guess that is why I am so attracted to painting on them. Painting is a sensuous, erotic experience, and painting on the sweeping curves of a bike exponentiates that sensation in way which canvas, paper, or pixels never could. So to me, detailing a bike is almost like foreplay.
Like Jimmy Olsen giving Lois Lane a back rub.

Oh, and if somehow, you didn't play the video, because you were carried away with my purple prose, well, you should. It's a student film (paying dues, again) that gives a visual narrative to the song. It hasn't had a lot of hits on Youtube, which is a shame, as I think it is a far superior music video for the song than the official one.

The Beugler Pinstriper

A bike show is nothing if not a display of toys for children who refuse to grow up. The toy that I returned most desirous of, is pictured above, the Beugler Pinstriper, a sort of technical pen for paint. It takes One-Shot enamel, unthinned, and rolls it down without the drips and stops you might wrestle with using traditional pinstriping brushes. Judging from the patent, this puppy has been around for awhile, and I vaguely remember discussing it with a former landlord who did a lot of automotive restoration. But it wasn't until I saw it being used last week end that I really appreciated it.
Now, don't get me wrong, I have heaping loads of respect for traditional pinstripers,, and would even like to learn that craft some day. But as an artiste with aspirations to do custom scooters, this puppy would sure come in handy. There have even been a few fine-art paintings I've worked on where I wished for a technical pen which would accept paint.
There are many sized heads, or more accurately wheels available for this, including double line wheels. It's a little spendy for the initial investment, but if you are doing even a little custom painting on the side, it would quickly pay for itself. Actually, considering what a traditional pinstripper charges, it would pay for itself just in one job for yourself.

NYC International Motorcycle Show

So last Sunday, Jes and I got to go the International MC Show in NYC. I got free tickets through work, though I had to work the Piaggio/Vespa/Moto Guzzi booth for a while.
The Piaggio booth was right in front of the main entrance, so the first bike I saw upon arrival was the one I'd come to see. That's right the Gilera Fuoco 500ie... er ah, the Piaggio MP3 500...
Dang that's hot! Fuoco is the better name for it, 'cause it is so freaking hot.
Gotta get me one! Gonna have to start promoting my airbrushing some, cause the $8900 price tag ain't pocket change.

Of course there were a lot of examples of custom airbrushing at the show.

Above was one of my favorites. Not the most showy as far as airbrush technique goes, but an original concept which fit the bike well. Plus a Star Wars theme always has geek appeal.


The above two paint jobs are indicative of the better examples of airbrushing we saw. Technically accomplished, but well, kind of adolescent in subject matter. Not that I'd have any reservations about painting such things, just that I wouldn't want to do them on my bike. I mean it's a Custom bike. You're spending thousands of dollars to get a unique expression of your personality, and you get flames and dead things just like everyone else. Still the knotwork on the green skull bike is pretty cool, I suppose I wouldn't kick it out of the garage for dripping a little oil.

I quite liked the above paint job. Almost a Cyberpunk feel to it. An abstraction of mechanized power. I'm probably a year or two away from being able to afford my coveted MP3 500, but of course I'm already contemplating how to custom paint one. Right now I'm kind of leaning towards something like that, but more Steampunk than Cyber, if you know what I mean.
What would a bike show be with out some classic beauties? Of course there weren't any cherry Vespa GSs, but there was the above 1953 Vincent Black Lightning.
Pardon me a moment, while I wipe the drool off my keyboard.

An of course there were classic Harleys. This former speed record holder was pretty interesting.
And while it wasn't vintage, or a record holder, I quite liked the looks of this new Harley. That semi-gloss metallic paint was quite the canine's mammarys.
Ah, now we are talking! Got a glimpse of this classic Lambretta parked outside surrounded by 1200cc monstrosities. Reminding me what I love about two-wheeling.

Of course there were all kinds of oddities at the show, besides your humble narrator. Check this Argo amphibious vehicle. Available for sportspeople and law enforcement.
You'll notice that I've been vague at best in identifying most of the motorcycles I've shown. Well I'm a scooterist, the details often get lost on me. This puppy certainly made an impression though. It's the BMW R1200GS Adventure, and it's the kind of bike that makes you feel like adolescent dreams of touring to Tibet just might be attainable...

Well that's about it for my decent photos from the show. In the next few days I'll try and post some details about some of the other discoveries I made on the exposition floor.

Wood Airbrush Stand

Airbrush artist Sascha Gast crafted this lovely airbrush rack/stand which accomodates 9 airguns, a manifold, bottles of paint, and some traditional brushes. Man this beautiful thing would look great standing next to any easel.

Via Kustom Kulture Lounge

The Dragon's Portfolio and Guerrilla Marketing

I began this blog almost two years ago with intent of it being a platform for promoting my creative endeavors, as well as a tool for archiving the assorted internet weirdness that inspires me. In that time, well it's turned into something slightly different.
Ironically, I guess one of the reasons for that divergent development is that I have a hard time tooting my own horn, despite that being the original purpose of this blog. It's not that I have low artistic self-esteem or anything. Far from it, I probably think more highly of my talents and potential than my output warrants. But self-promotion just seems kind of rude... like a dinner guest who only talks about themself... (Just counting the first-person singular pronouns in this paragraph makes me cringe...)

Anyhow, as I make baby steps to developing some self promotional materials, I've started referring potential contacts to this blog, and have realized that there is no easy way for readers to find my personal works. Clicking on Painting just gives you every post on painting, frequently featuring works by other artists which tickled or inspired me. Same goes for Art or Photography.

So to make it more convenient for those who might be interested in browsing images created by yours truly, I've gone through and labeled posts with my personal works as Portfolio.

If you are interested, you can always check a different version of my art portfolio here, without all my usual insipid ramblings.
The same goes for the photographic portfolio here.
Yes, I'm working the free online image storage services for all they are worth. My artistic endeavors are being operated on a hobbit's shoe-string budget (that is to say nonexistent), so if you'd like to see these images in a more professional dedicated environment, you could always buy one of my t-shirt designs or one of my fine-art prints...
On the other hand, if all the above has bored you to tears you could just use the Scooters label for the dedicated Scootin' posts, or the Steampunk label for some RetroFuturist love...

Any artists out there have any other suggestions for guerrilla marketing tools and techniques, or ways to overcome a Mid-Western feeling of self-promotion being cheesy, greasy, and sleazy? I'd love to hear some conversation on this in the comments.

Art and Commerce

I promised some scooter photos a couple days back, so here you go...

Actually, fulfilling that pledge is only a secondary purpose of this post. The real motive behind this post is to notify the world that I now have a small select group of fine art prints available for purchase at Imagekind.
And by small I mean, um... three.
For the past week or so, I've been distracted from my usual quirky, snarky blogging duties, by a personal experiment in the abomination of intellectual endeavor which is trying to marry art and commerce.
I've known way too many extremely talented individuals who steadfastly believed that trying to make a buck off of their creativity was a lost cause, and thus exiled themselves to the service industry. Seriously, for every waiter who wants to act, there is a Van Gogh busing the tables after them. And as much as I am prone to argue with these folks, and at least try and encourage them to SHOW other people their work, I am a crappy example. Sure I spent several years hawking paintings in group shows, and small exhibits in coffee houses and bistros, but I've let defeat and apathy get the best of me. I haven't made a serious effort to show and sell my work for sometime, cordoning myself off from the world in a labyrinth of rationalizations and self-pity.
Anyway, lately I've been trying to hack my way out of that maze. I haven't made as much progress as I might like, but I do have a few things to show for the struggle. Like the above digitally edited photo of an extremely Mod Modern Vespa , taken at AmeriVespa in Seattle this past summer.



Also available are prints of this image, called Goldmund's Gaze. It is a highly digitally edited image of a painted collage I did a few years back in a fitful rage of creativity after reading Narcissus and Goldmund by Herman Hesse. The original is currently in the collection of Ben Coffraw.




And last but not least, prints are finally available of this painting of Fudo Myo, or Acalanthara Vidya Raja. More simply called Demon Buddha, I finished this painting (still one of my favorites) in 1994. It was featured in the 40th annual Delta regional exhibit in 1995. Since 1996 or so, it has been in the private collection of a thief.

Mod Scooter Paintings

If you are in Palm Springs anytime in the next month, you might want to check out the show of paintings by Chris Reccardi at the M Modern Gallery. His paintings explode with the bright Space-Age colors of 60s movie titles, and feature not a few scooters and scooterists.
For those who might be able to make a trip to So Cal for an art show, you can see many of Reccardi's images here. There is even a painting with a decidedly Steampunk vibe...

thanks to bOINGbOING

On a Personal Note

So I realize that in addition to infrequent and irregular posting before and after the New England move, updated info on how Jes and I are doing has been in short supply.
Hopefully in the next few days I'll be rectifying that situation.
For now, though a short status report will have to do.
The two of us are still searching for full-time employment; for the time being Jes is acting as a personal assistant for a friend's mother, and I've been doing a part-time gig at Vespa Ridgefield. This past weekend we finished, for the most part, unpacking and decorating our house, and it looks pretty dang good, if I do say so myself. We have been very blessed with gifts and bargains in the areas of furniture and housewares, and want to publicly thank all of our benefactors... you know who you are!
Anyway, as I've been applying for jobs, I've been forced to start organizing and consolidating the flotsam and jetsam of a lifetime spent inadequately pursuing the muse. Many of these images, I've inflicted upon the Dragon's faithful reader's in the past. A few I have not, or have been significantly updated since then.
So, here then for your edification are a few new examples of the the Dragon's visual transgressions against good taste.

First, a self-portrait of the Dragon, which is still a work in progress...


Next an image from the never-ending graphic novel project which was the original impetus for this blog...


Another image from the same project...


No it's not an homage to Led Zeplin, you stoner, it's Icarus...


This was a large diptych in oil, which is now in a private collection...


And finally, this last piece is a portrait of my buddy Mage. This was intended to be a present to him, but is now unfortunately in the private collection of a thief.

coming up soon, some excerpts from my photographic portfolio, including some arty new scooter pics. Stay tuned.

Oh and if you wish to view this portfolio of paintings and drawings in full, you can do so here.