Modern Art is Stupid; Everything Is

"Modern Art is Stupid; Everything Is." 1/12/14. Acrylic, spray, and watercolor paints, ink, oil pastels, food coloring, and charcoal. 60x40".
“Modern Art is Stupid; Everything Is.” 1/12/14. Acrylic, spray, and watercolor paints, ink, oil pastels, food coloring, and charcoal. 60×40″.

Artist’s statement (revised 4/2/14):

This piece was started in the last week of December and finished in mid-January, during the final days of my relationship with Heather. There’s a lot of emotional back-and-forth in it. On New Year’s Eve, I wrote:

If you’ve never walked the train tracks alone on New Year’s Eve, singing along (badly) to a song only you can hear and maybe – just once, in the course of that walk – thrown a fist in the air… Well – I don’t envy you.
I DON’T EVEN LOOK OVER MY SHOULDER ANYMORE.
Hit the pavement, light another cigarette. Life is beautiful.
I just jumped in the air and laughed. I’ve never even heard this song before.

The joy I felt in that moment soon gave way to dejection. I was walking to meet Heather to go out for the night. Our outing only lasted fifteen minutes or so, before she got mad at me, and I walked home alone in a very different state of mind. Hembrough called me around 2 AM. He was walking home along the tracks back in Sarasota. I laughed. “What am I doing?” he asked me, “Why is this happening? Because punk rock told me so, I guess.”

The next morning, I was feeling drained of any and all spirit. I wrote out two lists:

THINGS THAT MADE ME CRY TODAY:
(1) A Facebook post about the rain
(2) A pop punk song about resilience

THINGS THAT MADE YOU CRY TODAY:
(1) Me

A few days later, I added more text: “It gets better, it gets worse, it gets better, it gets worse. As soon as it’s good enough, it isn’t. Why am I so sad?”

Another day or two passed and Rational Anthem sent me the demos of their new eight-song EP that they were gearing up to record. One song in particular fucking wrecked me. The chorus begins: “I can’t convince myself that I’m happy.

Fuck. They nailed it.

The last lyric in the song repeats through the end. “Does it matter anyway?” I heard it differently though: “It doesn’t matter anyway.” If I had heard that song on New Year’s Day, I wouldn’t have just been crying, I’d probably have been bawling.

The song had a goofy working-title.  ”No,” I told Chris. “There’s nothing fucking silly about this song. It needs a real, honest title.” I told him to call it, “I Wish I Could Be Happy.” He, Noelle, and Pete took me up on it so that’ll be the title when the record comes out. Since then, it’s also been decided that my watercolor painting/cartoon, “Autobiography,” will be used as the front cover for the record (recaptioned with the album’s title, “Emotionally Unavailable”). (Before I move past punk rock, I wanna note that the album I was listening to as I walked on NYE was “The Constant One” by Iron Chic, and the song referenced in my list is “The Shades of Grey” by The Murderburgers.

The text about it getting better and getting worse was originally the largest caption on the canvas, but I decided to relegate it to semi-obscurity by rewriting it in pen in the shadows. I blocked out that original caption with a series of primary-colored rectangles. I liked them but they reminded me of what I guess I’d call the proverbial “modern art.” I don’t like to be so negative or critical as to suggest that any art is stupid (after all, I have no idea what goes into it or why the artist is making it) but – if I’m being honest – when I look at most artwork, I have the same response that I think most people have to art:“Um… okay.” Basically, I don’t get it. I’m not sure why I should care. I mean, if the artist is getting something out of it, then I think that’s spectacular (genuinely!) but I don’t think that that necessarily makes it worth my time or attention. “Modern Art is Stupid; Everything Is” is reflective of that attitude as well as the bad / hurt feelings swirling around my relationship and my general state of being as I painted this. It’s also part self-deprecation. After all (IN CASE YOU CAN’T TELL), this piece is itself a work of modern art. (And – depending on who you ask – thoroughly stupid!)

All of this sort of adds up to one big jumbled mess of emotion and incident. That’s what happens when my work on some piece spans two or even three weeks. Struggling with whether or not I should break up with my girlfriend, trying to figure out if I’m happy, walking along train tracks, pop punk, modern art, being an artist. I don’t know what’s what. I summed it up with one last caption along the bottom of the canvas: “This is one of them MAGIC EYE paintings. Look close, at just the right angle, and you can see… how full of shit I am.”



Status update (2/22/14):
Here are two photos of the painting, hanging in Ettra (the gallery in which it was sold).

IMG_5399
IMG_5396

I also got set up at Burrito Gallery in Jacksonville this week. I have twenty-one pieces on their wall right now, though I may add more. The exhibit will run through the first week of April.

IMG_5393
IMG_5392
IMG_5391

I’m posting this from Chamblin’s Uptown. A few of my pieces are still up on the walls here, though I’ll be rearranging and adding more later in the week.

And I still have plenty of new pieces that I’ve yet to share online. I’ve been incredibly busy though so I’m going to hold off until I have time to write up proper statements to accompany them.

Anyway, things are going really well so far as all my art nonsense is concerned. Breaking my lease and moving into a van might not have seemed like the most sound game plan, but I couldn’t be happier with how things have been developing. Life’s been going a mile a minute and I’m just doing my best to keep up. I’ll be in Jacksonville until the show at Burrito Gallery ends and then I’ll head north to try and line up a show in a new city. The uncertainty and instability of my life can get scary at times but it’s also really exciting and – more than anything – I feel grateful. And I feel free. I don’t have to convince myself that I’m happy today; I just am.

My first beard got long enough that I was starting to feel like the grimy "homeless" kid that I sort of am. This is me after cutting it off, while working on some graphic stuff at the laundromat last night.
My first beard got long enough that I was starting to feel like the grimy “homeless” kid that I sort of am. Here I am after trimming it last night, working on some graphic stuff at the laundromat.


A week in the life of Sammy thrashLife

Thursday: I packed up the rest of my stuff and left Bradenton. My first stop was Umatilla, to visit an ex-girlfriend in rehab. I had dropped her off there myself after visiting friends in Boca Raton and discovering that she wasn’t quite as clean and stable as she had been telling me. After that, I went to Gainesville to teach Valerie how to format, package, and sell prints of her artwork. I had met Valerie while filming my scenes in her brother’s movie (“No Real Than You Are”) over the summer. The previous Saturday, I had gone to the cast/crew screening of the film, where I’d seen her parents for the first time since July. The next morning, they took me out to brunch and – after seeing my prints – told her what I was up to and she reached out to me for a tutorial. Friday, I woke up in Gainesville and spent the day meeting with galleries. Valerie’s mom, Nancy, called and said there was a big arts festival that weekend in Sarasota so I stayed the night and we rode down the next day.

Saturday, we arrived too late to really do the art fair but we went to her parents’ house in Osprey for dinner. They wanted to screen the film for some friends so – as the SUPER IMPORTANT ACTOR that I am – I stuck around for that. Afterward, we got to talking, they asked to see my art, and I wound up selling a bunch of prints.

Sunday, I did the art fair in Sarasota with Morgan and sold another
good handful of prints.

On Monday, Valerie and I hit the print shop to re-up on my supply. We drove back to Gainesville, I showed her the final stages of the packaging process, and then carried on to Jacksonville.

Tuesday, I went to Chamblin’s where I have a bunch of originals hanging, as well as some prints for sale. Collected a few bucks for prints sold while I’ve been away and then spent the afternoon writing up statements for some older pieces that I’ve been neglecting. Saw Heather for the first time in a while and then got a call from Erin Murphy, who informed me that her band, Teach Me Equals, were playing Jacksonville that very night and would I like to come out and set up to try and sell some art? Went over the Burro Bar around ten, watched them play, and sold way more stuff than I should have considering the Tuesday night attendance. Also got to meet Greg, the other half of the band and a really nice guy. Teach Me Equals definitely aren’t in line with my regular listening habits but I was really pleasantly surprised by their set. Loud, discordant, and fucked up but melodic, energetic, and dynamic in the way that kind of shit’s
supposed to be. Afterward, they invited me to come set up again at
their show in St Augustine.

Today, I woke up and went to see my Jacksonville counselor before setting up on the sidewalk in Five Points to finish packaging / assembling all the new prints I’d either just gotten or just printed statements for. Sold a couple and then went into Sun Ray to see Tim and collect the stuff is left behind before I left Jacksonville in January. Went by Burrito Gallery on the off chance I could catch the owner, did, and he informed me that they’d been saving a wall for me. This is the place I’ve wanted to show for a while so I was pretty excited. I got about 90% set up (with close to twenty pieces on the wall) and then hit the road for St Augustine. I’m about to go set up inside to sell
prints.

Tomorrow, I’ll check out and try to meet with galleries here in St Augustine and (depending on how it goes) get back to Jacksonville tomorrow night or the next day and finish setting up at Burrito Gallery. That’s gonna run through ’til sometime in April (I forget) and then I’m gonna leave Jacksonville behind and head north to the next city on my list. Had the Burrito Gallery thing not panned out, it’d have been New Orleans but since it’ll already be April, I think I’ll head somewhere a little cooler. I don’t mind sleeping in a minivan, but I’d rather not bake in a minivan.


HEY, JACKSONVILLE!

See you in an hour.


I’m trying to do this art fair today but I’m sold out of a majority of my prints (and virtually all of my best/favorite ones). And I kind of forgot that no print shops are open today and now I kind of want to put a knife in my head.

BUT they were all closed anyway since Friday afternoon and that’s when I even found out about this thing. SO it’s hard to be too angry with myself… And my life is … pretty great so…

I guess this is how this shit’s supposed to go today. Still can’t help but feel a little off but – fuck it – time to move. Ready or not, fingers crossed that these downtown motherfuckers don’t just scurry me off (as an unlicensed vendor).

Time to sell myself!


I thought I’d finally be waking up in Jacksonville today. Didn’t happen! And now… back to Sarasota for two days. There’s some arts fair that I’m gonna try ‘n thrash. Find me, give me praise and money, I’ll give you a print and a hug. Commerce!


I just spent three hours writing poetry in a fucking coffee shop.

So I’m gonna go kill myself now…


I live in a van. I wake up in random cities and no one ever knows where to find me. It’d be really easy for me to slip up and shoot heroin. AND YET…

Here I am, freshly scrubbed, walking downtown Gainesville in clean clothes, eatin’ cookies, listening to Assorted Jellybeans, gettin’ a cup of coffee before I attempt to crash into some art galleries.

It’s 7AM, guys. The creeps are all out.