On my way across southern Utah, I saw a sign with an arrow pointing to "Valley of the Gods." That sounded promising, so I turned onto the dirt road.
Hands-down, if you want to spend time in Yosemite, you should stay in Yosemite. But I convinced myself that a long weekend at Autocamp’s new Yosemite site would be “research” on trailer living.
I’ve been messing around with deconstructed/reconstructed paintings for a little big (collage/assemblage work crossing over into the realm of sneaker recon hype). It only made sense to try the same thing with some busted ceramic pieces.
It’s been a few years of trying to perfect my handle-making on functional mugs and pitchers — the stakes always feel too high. I put time into weighing, throwing, measuring, trimming, waiting — and then ruin a piece with a shitty handle. I wanted to remove that pressure. These ugly vases are made with assorted reclaimed clay from the past year
Valley of Fire is a wild landscape of swirls. You can see the layers of geological history — layers of sand turned to waves of stone. The warm colors stun at sunrise. It’s one of those places where a photo will do — it doesn’t really need to be painted at all. It’s already an abstract expression of emotion.
Inspired by views of Mount Watkins, from my December hike on the Snow Creek Falls trail. Color studies.
Sometimes the incorporation of printed images feels like cheating — a quick solution? Or relying too heavily on someone else’s skills? (I’ve have an aversion to spending hours of my life trying to paint or draw anything photorealistically). But as I’ve been thinking about appropriation and general theft of imagery, it seems that media has made it’s way back into my artistic vocabulary.
During a December trip to Yosemite, I was looking for a beautiful hike with minimal other hikers and opted for the Snow Creek Falls Trail.
Starting from Ahwahnee, I walked the loop trail over to Mirror Lake just after sunrise.
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?