You can buy “artist” without ever wondering if your work has depth and meaning, or if it’s all bullshit, or if it’s deep bullshit.
I encountered a coyote during a morning stroll. I painted. I ate more sandwiches. I considered the span of one year and what it meant for me and how that fit into the lifetime of this place.
“In this way, yes, there is an intentional reference to the Supreme brand, as well as OBEY (Shepard Fairey's brand) -- both of whom must certainly have been influenced by Barbara Kruger whose work was appropriated by Supreme as their logo in the early 90s.” - from email exchange with custom printing company
I’ve been thinking about the commodification of experience. How common elements of a lifestyle can be branded and sold. The power of logo to shift an object’s value. What does this mean for our relationship with the natural world? Can we brand the wild? Can we counterfeit the mountains? Is the journey for sale?
I dated a sailor from Maine who was always telling me there was this place I’d like. “You should really go to Mount Desert Island. There’s hiking; it’s beautiful. I think you’d really like it.” Fifteen years later I made it there. He was right; I liked it.
My 2017 resolution was to “master mug making.” I did not succeed, but I did some other cool stuff instead. So for 2018, I tried again with the slightly adapted “get better at making mugs” because best case: I’d get better. And worst case: I’d do other cool stuff instead, again. It’s going pretty well.
I find joy in understanding the contexts of things: the multilayered narratives, the why and how behind the what. It's in that spirit that I collected images of the work I've done in the past year, inspired by last summer's adventuring in Iceland and printed a book: