Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
A lot of work went into this so far in anticipation for a show slated.
I didn't want to Red Mud it, market it, none of that. It was about art from being caught-up that had to be made. It was about just having a show and taking a risk with something untested-what an art show is supposed to be.
My neurological problem I recently acquired and the challenge of trying to finish this initial series, it's too much. I believe Red Muds were expected as well...of course.
But I'm drained. The Estranged Series will roll on though until as fascination evolves locked away right here.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
So I've gone through a few boxes of Natty's and other related junk food grocery store "art supplies" items.
Above is called "Drunk Drunker Than The Other"...and Chicken George Zupp keeps pestering me to make videos, jump back in the net art slap fight...but I'm drinking his beer!
Videos will reveal my secret in the other room, the show next year, it is the only room with video mojo. The work in oil, on canvas is just too big to hide, it cannot be seen yet, it may never be seen...but videos again I'm afraid, I am afraid.
No amount of Natty's will get this bird singing, I don't think. I should stay strong and shut my big fat mouth, I know I can't though, trying to be cryptic, here maybe, not intentional. On video? Noway in hell. I'm running out of time, so I better start talking here soon. After all I took this vow a long time ago, the vow of an internet artist, a vow ounce huffed can never be unhuffed.
It's like the last plans of the great Native American Chiefs-Fight to the death or give into the unstoppable Slurry.
But the Slurry would never hire someone like me anyway... CLICK HERE FOR AVAILABLE ART
Monday, October 5, 2015
I mean two seconds into this little sketch painting on the back of a piece of Michelob Ultra Beer Box and I knew I had a piece of art gold in my hands. Trump inspired me. Has any of the other candidates compelled me enough to do them? Hell no!
I think I'll even do a bigger one on canvas-a lot bigger, I'm talking huge! Because if Trump can inspire me to do a portrait of him on a crappy piece of beer box from my trash just imagine how inspiring he will be on a 5 x 7 foot piece of canvas. But, this first little sketch can be yours if the price is right. I'll put the link below here.
And maybe, just maybe, if we're all lucky, Trump will hire me as the official White House Portrait Artist. I think if anything, I do have the hair for it!
Saturday, August 29, 2015
This poor fellow somewhere in rural Texas was just trying to sell this dumb little monkey painting he made so he could have a BBQ to feed his dog. He didn't even own a shirt.
It got me thinking about these darn cats I have. They have caught-up all the field mice around the house and are trying to fatten-up for winter.
They are constantly wanting their kibble.
I can barely feed myself now, so I made this painting inspired by that poor old bum photo from Texas. Maybe I can get some kibble here soon.
Here's a link to the Ebay auction for this painting-AUCTION
Here's the hall table I built and stained from scratch,
I'm gonna build more and sell them in my front yard because when life hands me lemons,
I sell things in my front yard...
Friday, August 14, 2015
It's hot, it's humid, smells of oil, terp on one side red mud on the other. One side, nostalgic, folk , southern, the other some high art Bacon-Hockney B-movie nightmare flick out the 70's. The studio is two sided now, hard to juggle one from the other, but it's working somehow, the challenge, art is always about the challenge you create, nothing else should be important...besides eating. Where is it going? We will see in a few months. Something is getting hung, talked about,poked-at, pointed-to and chin-grabbed. Yeah a show, I don't ever do them...unless someone asks, then maybe.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
31 one years ago, that was my first year of photography in High School, then so on and so forth-photo labs, 4 years of college art school, printmaking, more labs, frame shop work, more labs, art, painting, bulk film loaders , bathroom darkrooms, painted over thrift store art, stretched Motel 6 bedsheets with house paint and on and on until the first computer in 2004, the net, the Georgia Red Mud, Youtube, Ebay...
It is nice to have a decent studio space after 25 years and the figure, the space, that great smell of fresh wet oil.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
This past winter exploration in beast and oil paint led to some substantial breakthroughs.
The beast head evolved into a hog, the eye evolved into a window, much time was spent there
This study was lost in the tumultuous spring of car wrecks,car trouble and cars, cars, cars-destined for the big white brush, until I really looked at it, studied it and fed from it again.
Discovering this work again and remembering-Remembering, Yes!
A story behind every one, a history, a biography. I regret every work I've ever destroyed, but sometimes it is all one can do to keep going.
Friday, July 3, 2015
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
I had been planning this painting for sometime now. Mr. Maxwell used to live in this old house of ours way back in the 1930's & 40's or so maybe even before that.
I knew it had to be large on canvas, in oil. Mr.Maxwell would sit on the edge of the front porch he would chain smoke with a cigarette in each hand.
The Haint Blue ceiling on our porch is painted that way to keep the spirits from coming in. They think it's water and they don't cross over water. Mr. Maxwell's hands were yellow from years of smoking and his knees were indented, permanently, from his elbows.
This painting was done some on a ladder, it was not easy to do, the turpentine fumes about made me crazy. When we moved here there was a cinder block goldfish pond right in the front yard, right where Mr.Maxwell would sit. I had to take the thing down, it was a mosquito magnet. Taking it down took 3 days, it was a nightmare of dead goldfish and black widow infested cinder block. This is when I started smoking little Black & Mild cigars. I think Mr. Maxwell had something to do with this, a curse maybe, they did relax me at this time of great stress, but I got hooked, it has been hard to quit.
But today April Fools Day, I shall be a fool no more. I am quitting the things, I hope. I don't know what Mr. Maxwell did, maybe I will find out someday. I imagine he worked the cotton fields that used to be across the road. He would sit, stare and smoke, waiting for the work day to break again. It is a great pleasure to sit out on this porch, thinking and puffing, like it was meant to be. I have had a few good paintings come out of this unhealthy exercise. Maybe it is a part of work, at least here, the ooze of the past creeping into me, helping me make what I make and reflecting where I made it. I have blown a smoky breath or two on some of these paintings I have to say.
There are a few paintings from this old house past waiting to be painted. Mr. Maxwell I'm sure will come around again as well, his spirit is very much here.
Friday, March 20, 2015
Sunday, March 15, 2015
One room in the front is sealed like a tomb, filled with turpentine and gesso fumes, canvas & big, potentially disastrous paintings or hopefully the other way around.
Then there is the newly organized back room, with the newly screened in porch, done by yours truly. Breathing happens here along with a sketch book, stretchers to be built and paintings to be stacked, if they aren't sold or painted over first. It's not perfect, but it works for now until a big, one roomed studio is built out back or I move to a warehouse in the heart of the city where the alligator roams....or something like that.
Of course the damn dogs in the back room are never going to stop barking, outside or in my mind. The redneck trucks rumbling down the street in the front will never be muffled. The dissatisfaction of space will never stop. Decent studio space and as the Grinch said "all the noise, noise ,noise" or no studio space but peace and quiet. What will it be Steven Chandler? You have no other choice in this life. Try not to go mad.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
I'm not sure where to put these paintings when I'm done, they are huge. The luxury of living in such an old home is there are very tall ceilings. So I will hang them high for now.
Maybe I can sell these or at least have a show someday if anyone finds me out her in rural net space.
Or like all my large canvas paintings from the 1990's, they'll eventually get rolled-up and shoved under the house so the mice can shit on them.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Just trying to make it through February, nearly impossible in a 30 degree studio. At this point the wood for the stove is too wet to burn and the space heater runs the bill up way too high.
So huddled on the couch under a blanket, a pencil and a stack of manilla folders until the pipes freeze again or the plastic needs mending.
Then under the house I go a pocketed full of staple gun and duct tape, followed by stick patrol around the yard for fire kindling.
Treasure warmth and the simple gesture of walking to your wall and pushing the thermostat needle.