Sunday, July 26, 2015
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Here I answer some of the comments on the public hate post that Tex set up on Facebook and damn if I didn't actually know some of these people some even own my art! All this because we were defending my work when it was being ripped-off right in front of my face. What blind rage and hate these people have.
Here's some more from my Tex-Downer Cow Series. The links to the listings are at the bottom of this post.
Here is Tex in his devil horn cowboy hat riding the poor Downer Cow.
Lazy and stupid, Tex will ride anything as long as he doesn't have to use his own two legs, he'll even ride a sick cow.
Here is Tex in his devil horn cowboy hat with the sick Downer Cow. He's wandering around trying to drum-up sympathy. He's trying to tell people that this aint no Downer Cow, it is not sick, it is alive and real, that it is actually some mystic spiritual cow of yesteryear-a spiritual enlightenment and joy.
The reality, a denial-the spirit of his cow, an empty shell of a man-a pale soul, limp, full of misery, sadness...sickness.
All around him the stench of rotting guilt, wandering, aimless, the weight of the Downer Cow growing, minute by minute.Art Auctions Click Here
Monday, July 13, 2015
I heard that Tex had started a couple Facebook post after my wife made a post about seeing the painting Tex Crawford plagiarized from my Downer Cow painting. I did not make any post about this initially, but Tex made his post look like I had made it.
Then a litany of comments started assassinating my character. Tex of course fueled this on in a guilty passive aggressive manner. I finally got on there when I heard that Tex was making up some story about PM's he was getting regarding something horrible I did to folk artist Carter Wellborn. I finally gave in and tried to respond on these post about me, but Tex being the fraud coward he is blocked me instead of responding.
I fortunately made screen shots of these posts and answered numerous comments on there in a video I will be posting later this week. I also made a response painting called Downer Cow 2 that I have for sale on Ebay. Below here is a video I made responding to the allegations Tex made on the hate post he made about me. Again folks, this is all about me finding a painting that he made that he ripped off from something I did.
He had contacted me in 2013 telling me he had been watching my blog and Youtube for years. He recently tried to find out where I was living, trying to see if I was in the area where he was exhibiting some of his knock-offs. I know some of his people are saying
I'm just crazy, this and that. I'm not crazy, I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore. This is the 4th craft fair marketeer I've run in with doing this.
I am not alone, there are other career, educated artist that have to deal with these types of low-life people, but I will fight to the end about this. I know one thing, you opened the gates of fucking hell when you decided to rip me off and made a Facebook hate forum about me. Downer Cow Listing
Friday, July 10, 2015
Several years back and about a year into my now defunct 7 year streak of not eating a hamburger, I read a story about Downer Cows.
Downer Cow is a cattle industry term used for sick cows. These cows are not allowed to be processed for consumption. I was horrified to hear in the story that not only were the cows being processed, the meat was generally used in public school lunch programs.
The term and imagery stuck in my head and I painted this painting in 2010.
Five years later I was again horrified to see basically a stencil of this painting with my Red Mud color scheme hanging feet away from a group of my Georgia Red Mud paintings (via Around Back At Rocky's Place Gallery) at the Quinlan Visual Art Center in Gainsville Georgia.
Of course this bad knock-off was signed by someone else who I later remembered had emailed me in 2013 stating he had been following my art, blog and "Youtubery" for as he said, "years".
I had no idea who this person was, but responded respectfully. Then earlier this year, prior to a recent "folk" show in Georgia where I have lived, this person was noticed asking where I was living. Why? Perhaps when it appeared I was not in this "art scene" the gate was opened to slap up his knock-offs.
Also discovered in this persons showboat of "original creations", "inspired" works of my Murder Of Crows In A Dead Magnolia Series and Charley Patton Rattlesnake Blues.
Upon seeing this my wife posted her thoughts on her Facebook page. Apparently someone shared it to the opposing party and to my understanding a Facebook lynch-mob against me has started. Even reaching to the point of one of these people, again, someone I have never met, spoken to, emailed, nothing, but apparently preaches peace and "Big Love" has threatened publicly on Facebook to come to my home and "whip" our ass for my wife posting her thoughts.
I have contacted my attorney who advised me that this person was infringing on my copyrights, the proper steps have been taken. Still, I cannot for the life of me believe there is a group of people attacking me all because I found my work being stolen and tried to stand-up for it.
When I was a kid they thought I was autistic, I drew constantly, never listened, built giant airplanes in my yard. A hearing test revealed I was nearly deaf. After my operation I got my hearing back but still kept making art. I earned my B.F.A in studio art/photography in 1992, have worked hard in art and photography for decades-have the resume to prove it. Each series of work I've done has been done over the years between one day job after another, I quit a few jobs, but I never quit my art.
Years ago I couldn't have imagined this-fighting for my art. Bullied by a click of people who are taking a wonderful genera known as Southern Folk Art and turning it into an embarrassing hippy-dippy marketeer nursery school art sing-a-long...and when this doesn't pay the festival tent fee, troll around the net with "Big Love & Free Hugs", plenty of real art to steal.
P.S. That person you are listening to on FB, BlackGoat Folk Art/ Richard Chalmers/Bosco/Black Goat Country Store. Understand, I have never met this person. He bought my art in 2006, started making knock-offs of it a year later, then started stalking me and my family. He even got so low as to contacting my then 12 year old daughter on Youtube trying to say terrible things about her Dad. He lives somewhere in Vermont, is a complete psychopath that has probably friended you on Facebook and you have no idea who he is. I do, been dealing with this nutjob for nearly a decade now.
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
Friday, April 24, 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.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Once again, not much need to type words here since there's a video. I'm not sure I address the work very much in the video.
I always seem to get sidetracked by jumbled thoughts squeezed into five, ten minutes of talk.
I suppose this first in the new series of oils, canvas, largeness,even more so down the line, will eventually explain itself maybe.
Unfortunately this painting will be three thousand miles away from me for the foreseeable future.
The funds gained from it long gone spent, barely, at the grocery store, lights, water, gas, car insurance or the ever increasing internet extortion bill.
I am grateful, thankful however. Someone recognized this new painting, appreciated it, wanted it and it has not a drop of Georgia Red Mud on it, not a breath of "folk". Thank You Very Much!