“2042”

“2042”

48×48 inches (122 x122cm)

Mixed media on stretched canvas

Signed on the back

2023

This is a piece I made at Fat bar in Paris in 2019. Kevin invited me and Nite Owl to come by one afternoon and do some pieces in the bar. I had no real plan that day and about halfway through the day I was out of ideas and nothing was really working. So, I tried to convince Kevin, I would have to come back the next day to finish the piece. Kevin wasn’t havin it. He told me he had to open the bar in a few hours and this needed to be done. So without the luxury of indecision I just pushed through it. It’s a funny thing. I habitually start projects very late, leaving myself almost no time to deliberate over things. Artists work in different ways, for different reasons. I personally have never benefited from ample time. I tend to become indecisive and 2nd guess everything. The work tends to suffer from too much overthinking. I am happiest with the results when I am forced to work in a sort of panicked frenzy in an effort to keep my word. This piece is an example of that, so I revisited it in the studio. Often I test things on walls and out in the public and if I like them I bring them back into the studio. It’s kind of an ass backwards way of doing things. It would make much more sense to experiment in the solitude of my studio and then bring the best results into the public, but there’s a sort of rush from risking public humiliation that I kind of enjoy.

The piece is now available on my website HERE

Paris

There is very little to be said about Paris that has not been said before. It is a city of stunning beauty created out of endless care and pride. Rather than attempt to describe it adequately I’ll sum it up in one story.

At the recommendation of my friend Steven Ballinger I had lunch at Musee Jaquemart-Andre. It’s a beautiful place to have lunch. However, at the end of the meal I ordered desert. It was some kind of rose flavored meringue thing. Actually I’m not sure what the fuck it was, the menu was in french and I don’t speak french. What arrived appeared to be more ornamental than edible. It was this beautiful pink and gold sculpture, so beautiful that it seemed wrong to plunge a fork into it and destroy it. I do though, derive some pleasure from doing things that seem wrong. Keep in mind, I am not a foodie in any way. I consider 7-11 a restaurant.  With the first bite still in my mouth everything became clear. I thought “holy shit, if I could bake something like this, I too, would look down at America”. It was that good. It was a fucking pastry that negated 200 years of American exceptionalism. Paris gets things right. Period end of story.