I drew Tom painting at long pose class last night. Those are sculpture tripods in the background. Tom graciously agreed to sign the piece- in the lower left of the frame. It’s a mutated form of his native thai signature.. suitably spelling the inverse. nice!
Archive for April, 2008
Starting life as a side-project at CCS in 1992, some choice, kluged-together objects abandoned their former lives as bike water bottle cages, RC components and lighting fixture heat sink housings to take on the decidedly greater inanimate object life-path of harnessing light and focusing it through a 35mm slide- usually melting it within 30 seconds or less.
The damn thing disappeared back in June 1993. Screen door ajar.. power cord left amidst a heaping hand-full of deformed cellulose images buckled in their cheap cardboard frames.
It reached the shores of Lake Michigan weeks later- traveling 300 miles on it’s not-so-useless-after-all stubby mutant pygmy feet.
We tracked it down but not before the little punk waded-out into the deadly surf (see below) It’s probably somewhere in Wisconsin right now melting cheddar over a lovely tuna salad or pie. Needless to say Eugene was pissed. Les was confused. I was dehydrated and confused.
To make up for all the disappointment that day we went fishing out on Les’s boat. Candy on a stick placated any feelings of loss we may have had for our slide-melting friend. All was well.
Jerome had two tickets to a Giant’s game last Thursday night. Neither of us are big fans of organized sports but the seats were good- and, hey, it’s a spectacle. Some exposure to the human element is good every so often too. In case you can’t read the comic on the page below- the basic story goes: Jerome’s sat in these same seats multiple times as a guest of a season-ticket-holder-friend-of-his. I asked him if he’s “ever caught any foul balls from these seats?” He pointed up field and back behind home, “Nah, they usually land over there- I’ve never caught one here.”
That said, the pitch- the hit: the batter slices a, now, careening projectile in a more-than-accurate trajectory towards my head. The ball is a brilliant clear hole in the night sky as it approaches light speed on it’s final approach towards my head. I’m holding my sketch book. I don’t want to put it down on the ground- there’s no time and the guy seated behind me is using the immediate area as a spittoon. I freeze up. Immediately I’m transported to a little league game 25 years ago standing in right field. In the parallel universes of the moment- the ball drops to the ground within easy inches of me. Both crowds moan. In present-tension, the spitting guy lunges over the seats and snags the ball spinning at my feet. People in the vicinity look at me like I’d dropped a baby.
I became angry and confused. I took my cup of roasted, not-shelled peanuts and started chucking them at people around me and yelling, “Why didn’t you catch that? HEY! Why didn’t you CATCH THAT?!!”
That last part is not true.
UPDATE May 2014: The Interfluxnik 48 table has taken up permanent residence at the Hiller Aviation Museum in San Carlos, CA.
I find most of my inspiration in the solid, substantial stuff found at the scrap yard. During Ep.1 a few of us from the art dept. used our ‘credentials’ to gain access to a small, family-owned ex-NAVY supply depot across from the Oakland airport in the East Bay. Some of the internal volumes of this two warehouse complex resembled that last shot in the first Indiana Jones film- where the arc is boxed up and buried deep among vast terrains of concealed, countless booty. The parts prized from the containers at the depot were beautifully preserved jewels of fifty-year-old aeronautic engineering. It was a feast for the eye, for the camera and for an insatiable appetite of precious, formed, cast, stamped and welded metals. The mechanisms that make any plane work are experiments in lunacy: elegantly blunt, heavy aluminum armatures actuated by intricate, dedicated systems of pulleys, struts or a ridiculous muddle of hydraulic pumps and plumbing. Just holding one of these milled, polished.. perhaps anodized parts in your hand satisfies and provides real, lasting sustenance for a design brain.
Some shots of California Air Frame circa 1996 taken with my light-leaking 35mm..
Buying truck loads of this stuff from the airplane scrap yard, I’ve built various pieces of furniture over the years: a dining table using the rear horizontal stabilizer wing tips off of a Lockheed Constellation prop-liner from the 40’s. A daybed consisting of two radar dishes and landing gear parts, a variety of smaller storage unit pieces.. all absolutely functional and used around the house. The conceit behind this furniture is: honor the design/ craft of the part and build simply. I strive to combine these parts meant for different planes and applications into what looks and works like a piece of true aircraft engineering from a parallel universe. I don’t garnish the pieces with wood trim or spend my time polishing the aluminum to a mirrored finish.. all this distracts from the absolute-utilitarian nature of the parts…
The table is about 8′ across..
Dave Gordon and I were commissioned by SF production haus Radium to build this editing console for their editor Alan Chimenti. Both those guys are super cool. I miss the smell of grinding metal in the morning. It’s the smell.. of victory.
The daybed is about 9′ across.. yeah, these shots are scale-deceiving..
A series of cycle concepts from the archives.. The BMWs were sketched in homage to two artist/ rider friends who are currently cruising the cirrostratus. A luta continua Dan and Les! The color jobs are solidly based on the non-fiction adventures of me and my friend Jonathan shadowing the Breeder’s tour bus on the way to their in-store performance at a downtown Toronto HMV in 1994.