I love art. I think you have to blame Great-aunt Louise for that. She and Great-uncle Bob were art collectors. Very active art collectors. And they wanted to show everything, not just a few pieces at a time. It makes sense to me -- why buy art only to keep it in storage most of the year? So they hung art literally floor to ceiling. On every wall, along the staircase, everywhere. Couple that with the back of their house being glass and facing the Puget Sound, and you're talking about a house that left an impression. I wanted a house like that.
Well, there's no house like that (yet), but we're getting close to having all the art. We have more art than we have wallspace, unfortunately. (What was it I said about it being dumb to store art?) I have wide and varied taste, but over the years I've really come to enjoy folk art -- or outsider art, or visionary art, whatever vogue term it has this week. I love the playful nature of it, the crazy topics, the great color in so many pieces. So while we have all kinds of art, we own a bunch of folk art. Most pieces are the new-style look, old-style process of the carving/typesetting folk artists at Yee-Haw Industrial Press, like this one and this one (although ours is a fine-art print) and this one ...
The trouble with folk art is that it looks so fun, so accessible, so ... doable. You think, aw hell, I have a sense of humor and a bit of artistic talent, why ain't I makin' my own damn art? So occasionally I produce a painting or a piece of scratchboard or such and think I'm a closet folk-art genius. Then, through a series of accidents on my sister's part, I found out that Kevin Bradley and Julie Belcher, the geniuses behind Yee-Haw, were going to be teaching a letterpress class at Pyramid Atlantic in Silver Spring. I about peed myself, like a tween (or Stacy) finding out Justin Timberlake is coming to town. I could be taught by the masters! My idols! Oh my god, I'd have to show them my artwork.
That's the trouble with producing art -- people expect to see it. I'd rather not show it, for fear of finding out I'm not really a closet folk-art genius. But we're all friends here, right? (Answer: Right.) So I'm going to show you what I made. One piece is all carved (linoleum block) and one piece is all typeset. But first let me say: I got to spend three days with my art idols and it was fantastic. They taught me a bunch of techniques I didn't know, they entertained me, and they unfortunately turned me on to expensive tools I now covet. (Oh, and we have to buy a house with a concrete-foundation garage so I can get a letterpress.) I'm sorry the class wasn't a week, and I'm sorry I didn't make a piece that combined carving and set type. But the Pyramid Atlantic equipment is often available and I'm going to take advantage of that when I can. Because maybe, just maybe, I'm a closet folk-art genius. I hope so, because I have some art to sell -- we're out of wallspace.
Here's the first piece I did, called "The Bottle Let Him Down." Sean came up with the wording, hence the double-signature. I debated copying a font for this, but Kevin 
Bradley recommended freestyling the letters. "That's what George Jones would do," he said. He had an excellent point. I carved two plates for this -- one for all the black text and bottle shape, and one for the green border and bottle color. In hindsight, I wish I had not put so much space between the lines of text. Also, I accidentally cut off the end of one of the g's, so there's some unfortunate stubbery going on there. (Kevin was like, "Oh well, deal," and stubbed the g for me after I was paralyzed by the horror of my mistake.) And you can see where I got a little tipsy with the green in the bottle -- it slants away too much in the top half. I also think I cleaned the block out a bit too much; I'd like a little more of the black "woodblock" marks, especially between the lines of text. Well, enough insulting my own work: Overall, I'm fairly happy with how it turned out.
Here's the second piece I did, which has not been titled yet. It might be called "Uncle Bastard," which is Sean's nickname. This is only blurry and crooked because I am a closet folk-art genius, not a photographer. This piece is completely typeset. 
It looks easy, but I figure it took about 5.5 hours to completely set. It would have been easier if there were longer lines for the outline, but there were only teeny dashes. In this piece, I learned my lesson with leading (between-the-lines spacing), but I was having serious issues with kerning (between-words spacing). Part of that is because I have a few different widths going on within the pieces, but part of it is inexperience. You'd think I'd be good. Let's figure I created about 1,200 pages a year (4 pages a day -- and, dude, I so did more than that) for all the years I was actively creating newspaper pages. But all of those pages had automatic kerning. If pages were still typeset, they'd put me in ad sales. I had two other issues -- I mistook a b for a d and didn't notice it for a couple prints, and I had some rising spacers that ruined a couple prints (including one with the nicest inking). Speaking of inking, I wanted to put more ink on the drum, but a more experienced student told me there was enough. I should have gone with my gut instinct; the pieces in general are too light. But mostly I love this print, and it was a big hit with my fellow students who got to see it (it was the last run on the last day, and most folks had left). The best surprise: I had a rocket in my original sketch, and couldn't believe I found a slug of one. It was much longer than the one in my sketch, but with a find like that I had to make it work.
So, overall: I had a blast. Best three days in quite awhile. I did not get a job at Yee-Haw, but Kevin Bradley said he liked my George Jones print, and my closet folk-art genius ego is doing just fine with that.
"And we don't care about the young folks / Talkin' bout the young style / And we don't care about the old folks / Talkin' bout the old style too" -- "Young Folks" by Peter Bjorn and John (featuring Victoria Bergsman). This is my latest obsession song, although I guess I'm also obsessing on "Johnny Appleseed" by Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros. "Johnny" is the theme song for "John from Cincinnati," which is how it came to my attention. Never mind that it's on an album we've owned for awhile ("Global A Go-Go"), which is the source of another obsession song ("Mondo Bongo") which came to my attention via another source of screen entertainment ("Mr. and Mrs. Smith"). This is how things work in my world. ANYWAY. "Young Folks." Great song. Love that whistle. Love that beat. Love that video. Talkin' only me and you.
