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ANOTHER MOMENT IN THE AUSTIN ART SCENE
AND WE STOOD THERE STUNNED, BUT LAUGHING...SORTA
December 16, 2004 - So
Chris Chappell
and I found ourselves at another one of Ethan Azarian's art openings at
his house. Chris was ready to leave and get tacos, but since I
couldn't afford them, we hung out at the show a bit longer. I was revved up on a couple beers and saltines,
entertaining him with vitriolic diatribes about some of the free loaders
of the Austin art scene who regularly show up at openings and just eat
food and drink beer. Over and over again.
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I was feeling pretty stressed about rent and money,
praying one of these nights someone buys one of my paintings from the
Blue Genie show. I've already had two people pull out of big
purchases this week, so my mind is far from rested and seeing people
freeload off artists makes me absolutely scream. My diatribe was
interrupted by someone who I've met on occasion at openings throughout
town. He stuck out his hand and greeted me with an odd phrase to
hear, "I stole something of yours." Intrigued, I wanted him to
carry on, but his cell phone rang and he walked out the door to answer
it, telling me he'd be back.
At least he didn't talk on the phone in the middle of
the gallery.
Chris and I gossiped about what he may have stolen -
it wasn't like he was a painter who borrowed some turps and never
returned them, or even a Tom Waits tape or anything, but soon enough he
came back to finish our conversation.
"I was over at Blue Genie the other day, and saw some
of your stuff. It looked good, and I was flipping through the
literature and I took one home and started reading it. I didn't
realize until the next day that it was for sale."
I could hardly get a word in edgewise to interrupt his confession, but
did manage to nod affirmatively when he mentioned they were for sale.
He continued on though, about how he didn't mean to steal it, and how he
was sorry.
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ON ZINES
On a whim this year, I decided to make some zine versions of
this website. I cut and pasted about 12 different stories
together, adding in some paintings and drawings, and inserted my
bio, resume and artist statement for good measure.
Chris laughed at my idea of making a zine,
asking when the internet started and when zines died. He
was supportive though, despite the sarcasm, and thought it was a
pretty good idea.
One expensive (and long) trip to Kinko's
resulted in the first 25 prints of issue one. Quickly
thrown together, the books looked alright, pretty sharp and a
novelty to see in print and not on a computer screen.
Mostly, I did this to give to interested buyers, friends, or
people who've supported me through the years. I did leave
a pile of them out at my display at Blue Genie with a price tag,
but not one lonely copy has been moved, much like the paintings
hanging above them.
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I let him continue, but finally interrupted,
bewildered and amused, asking him if he read all 32 pages. He
danced over the question, instead telling me again how he was sorry, but
"not to worry, I'll bring it right back." With that, he shook my
hand, wished me luck, and walked out the door.
I turned to Chris, a witness to the entire event, who
had a similar look of stunned amazement etched on his face. He
questioned why the man just didn't reach into the pocket and give me
five lousy dollars. Instead, he has promised to bring back what
will probably be a dog eared and water stained copy, pages folded, and
give it back to me with a smile on his face. After he reads the
whole thing as well.
I don't know what the hell to think of anything
anymore, and I am left questioning why artists take it upon themselves
to try to do so much with their little lives when the world is filled
with ruthlessly ignorant people who don't understand much outside their
narrow views in the least. I am working on a series of paintings
that hopefully will skewer and shame the intended targets, these hanger-ons
of the art scene, and I hope and pray that they begin to realize what
lecherous folks they really are.
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