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In college I had a pair of shorts that had these colors, depicting some sort of beach theme. They were cheap and obnoxious and I loved them. No one else did. That in mind, I consider this work risky as they are not ‘good’ colors.
This piece is more in the graphic vein. I tried something different with chunky hatching. I think it is fun. In 87 I made a series of prints that were heavily influenced by Nagel. Over the years, Nagel sunk slowly into my DNA, especially with graphic designs. The pose, the hard edges, flat color fields, and expressive highlights stem from studying that school of poster and advertising design.
I was thinking organic, forest dweller, mistakenly creepy. It began as an inking exercise that took control of itself. Coloring was difficult. I wanted forest tones but it had to be gentle, subtle. The colors need to serve as camouflage as much as showcasing the features.
I would love to know what you think. I appreciate everyone that has been beginning to follow me.
I wanted to do a piece on the hundreds of years of death the average indigenous person carries. Something subtle.
I know more about indigenous people than the average American, which is horrifying as I know so little. The majority she’s a face, a race, an controlled image. Not a person or a people or a culture. Indians, to use the name most still use, are different from indigenous people. Indians are a carefully crafted fiction that takes the place of the people. It is malleable. It is deceptive. It absorbs guilt and allows one to imagine Indians as anything you want without confronting reality.
I crafted a generic Indian face, an elderly indigenous man who typically is what is used. Harmless in his age. Foreign in his look. Non threatening.
He is ghostly. Vaguely there in front of you. Behind him is death. Acres and decades of death. You aren’t supposed to see it. You aren’t meant to. That would make him real.