Thursday, June 24, 2010

You're The Boss, Applesauce

You're The Boss, Applesauce
2010
oil on canvas
26" x 34"

Thursday, April 15, 2010

A Case Of You


A Case Of You
2010
oil on canvas
72" x 48"







Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Another Busy Day at Jasonco ™ ©

On the left -- A Case of You -- in progress. On the right....

Super-Spectacular, in progress.

On the left, The Answer To All My Questions. On the right, on the wall, Open Your Mind, almost done.

Open Your Mind, detail, in progress.

In progress shot from a series of small paintings tentatively titled It's Hard To Do What You Really Want To Do.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Now You Know A Little Something About Me

Some people go to church. Some people go to drugs. I go to art museums. Like I’m sure the former believe about their vices, I believe the same about mine. Art is the most important thing in the universe, ever. This little piece isn’t about explaining why. If you don’t understand why it’s important, or don’t think it’s important, quite frankly, with all due respect, I don’t care right now. You’re wrong. You live in darkness. If you don’t understand what is great triumphing over what is mediocre, love triumphing over fear, what our gut tells us from the beginning triumphing over our second thoughts and hesitations, then you don’t understand. Sorry. But like I said, this isn’t what this is about. I go to art museums because it reaffirms my life, and all of the choices that life entails. I see the end products of individuals who took the time and the effort, not out of mere survival, not for some immediately practical end, but in the boldest defiance of it. To create something that is a nominee for eternity. To create something that compels us to that greatest of Sisyphean tasks humanity has ever known, to try and make something last forever. It’s impossible, impractical, foolhardy, irresponsible, and it is the saving grace of humanity. I will never take for granted that I live in a culture that creates giant beautiful cathedrals to showcase these attempts at the impossible, where they are cared for, exhibited and discussed. And that’s why I go. Today, at MOCA, in my home of Los Angeles, I briefly reacquainted myself with some of those attempts that I had seen many times before. Sometimes I saw them alone. Sometimes I was with others. I still feel lucky, I still feel in awe. I want to make a stroke like Kline. I want images to flow through me like Rauschenberg. I have a little overly-optimistic thing I like to say when I want to seem intelligent and cute at the same time that relates to what I’m talking about. I tell people that there’s a finite amount of matter in the universe, and all art is made from this matter, so, really we’re slowly converting the entire universe into art. And what do we do with great art? We take care of it, preserve it, and try to make it last forever. Even though we really can’t. If everything got turned into art, that’s how we’d treat everything. Like maybe were supposed to. Isn’t that nice?

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Kill The Brain

Ok, first things first. Durden and Ray. This is who I'm with in LA, they're a fine group of guys and dolls. We're having a little thing in Long Beach starting this weekend. If you're in town for the TED Conference you best stop by. We'll be maintaining regular gallery hours until the end of February. I have two paintings in the show. You know them, you love them. This one below is not one of them:

The Answer To All My Questions
2010
oil on canvas
40" x 40"

If I may continue to shamelessly plug a bit more, D n' R is producing a book, which will be available online soon. It's a catalog of the current roster. I've seen some preview images. It's a thing of beauty.

I got a book in the mail called Painting Today. It's a giant tome that reiterates my assertion that, like the undead, the only way to kill painting is to kill the brain.

On my bookshelf is one of the nifty-est looking copies of Understanding Media by Marshall McLuhan I have ever had the pleasure of perusing through. I got it years ago when I lived in Texas from an Amazon marketplace seller; it couldn't have been more than two dollars. Its got underlining and notes and shit in it, all from a fellow named Fred Woerner. I know this because he signed and dated his copy – December, 1966 – as well as stamped his address on it. He lived in LA. If I go to the address today, what should I do when I get there?

I have completely fallen down a rabbit hole because of my obsession with the Legion of Super-Heroes. I've started to read some of the original Adventure Comics stories, starting with the Jim Shooter written issues. The first one, #346, from July 1966 (the same year Fred inscribed his copy of Understanding Media...curious) has a particularly delightful moment during the introduction of potential Legionnaire candidate Princess Projectra:




Thursday, January 14, 2010

My Overriding Goal Of Becoming A Force Of Nature

Happy New Year. So can we start the 90's revival already? I suppose I have some irons in the fire, but some are secret. The econopocalpyse has slowed my artistic production, though a shift is immanent. Let's just say it's about to behoove me to do smaller, more easily transportable works. I will never be free of an unfinished big sexy painting on my wall, but it's time to dust off the drawing board, eh?

So it seems my teaching career is on hiatus for now. I don't know what those kids are going to do. They were already robbed of my Bauhaus inspired digital media curriculum, and now I don't even get to teach Intro to Art Concepts anymore. I have to go back to self-rightously rambling about what art is to strangers at after parties. When you get paid to do that, you're a professor. When you don't you're just an asshole.

I painted my father, and a family therapist bought the painting. I figured my mother would get jealous so I started a painting of her. It was originally going to be a painting of a giant shark with a naked woman in its jaws, taken from a Spanish men's (read: fucked up violent porn) magazine. But I decided to paint my mom instead. I'm keeping the original title though, -- Tiburon.

So this Saturday at the Torrance Art Museum (all the cool kids who eat together at lunch call it the TAM) are some sexy shows that I'm involved with in various ways from tangential to directly. You should go to their website and try to find me, Where's Waldo style. I'm trying to figure out a way to show up in people's dreams next. Not necessarily that way.

I feel closer to my overriding goal of becoming a force of nature more than ever these days, though I can't exactly explain why. I have begun helping to facilitate some outside exhibitions for RAID Projects, so if you are one of my international fans, let me know if you know of any groovy art spaces that would like to do an exhibition exchange with us. You know, if you like being in shows and stuff. Still a ways off, but we here at RAID are consolidating our mafia and are poised to strike.

Anti-Christ by Lars Von Trier is the greatest date movie ever. Take your partner, parents, and clergy to the best feel good family film of '09. Seriously it's good shit. Hard to recommend without fully interviewing the recommendee, but if you think you like film, (as opposed to just "movies") get involved. Saw The White Ribbon by Hanenke the other night. Again, not for morons. I think he's giving a talk tomorrow. Must queue up Funny Games. The original. And the remake.
There's a whole gaggle of new cats here at RAID now. As soon as I get to know them and we share links, I'll be spreading the love, probably on the RAID blog. The only way I make friends is if they live in the same house with me. Seriously, my anti-social behavior is only evolving as I get older.

Friday, November 13, 2009