The Basement

The Basement

It all started in the basement. I had big dark clouds hanging over me. I had big ambitions of immortality, and other impossible hollow shit. I realized my dreams of a pro sports career had passed me and I needed something to do. I missed my mom, who I lost in 2009, I had lost my path, and I was just kind of fucked up. Something I’ve realized as I’ve gotten older and started teaching is people need a purpose. I am useless without a purpose. We all are. When I went into the basement, I was seeking a purpose. And for some contrived, ego-maniacal reason, I decided mine was to make art. I didn’t know what to make when I first set out, so I began working in series using freehand automatic drawing; kind of like how I used to doodle in class. At first I was drawn to color and chaotic lines. I used whatever was around. You can see the beginnings of my love of combine art in Swagghammer as I am actually using dry-wall as canvas, and incorporate pages from an old Space Jam children's book into the background. You can also see the beginning of my foray into abstract landscapes, and action painting, in A Break and in Heading South. This was the beginning of me attempting to reclaim my path through an ascribed purpose.

The basement is a motif I reference frequently in my writing. To me, it represents the unseen foundation we all possess; it is intimate, frightening, and unique. A collection of contrasting identities, a storehouse of memories. The basement's purpose is ambiguous from it's outset; it is confined, and hidden, constructed for us, and then acted upon. The basement is a submerged internal space I go to reflect, release, and relinquish fear.