Everything Lost and Wonderful and Sad

It's 3:00 a.m. and I've spent the last few hours flipping through a collection of pictures of Risley, the arts dorm at Cornell where my artist-in-residence adventure took place. I don't even recognize half the people in the photos, and Lord was that place covered in nerd (the SCA practiced on our lawn!), but right now, sitting in my hermetic LA loft with the windows clamped shut to keep out toxic flame ash, I somehow smell autumn and rainstorms, and I feel in my belly a bit of that manic excitement you have when everything in your world is still new and unfolding.

Here would be a great place to write something about the effect of other people's nostalgia and make a clever segue to this:



Years ago I had the idea of making dozens of plein air Sears paintings. Searses of all shapes and sizes, showing the differences in landscape and architecture. I tried a few experiments that didn't quite feel right, before realizing, No: It shouldn't be about capturing the realness of Sears, it should be about creating that one perfect Sears, the Sears you see in your mind, the Sears that's more Sears than Sears ever was. So here is A Perfect Moment Braced in Time, Like Falling in Love. Click through to see all seven feet of awesome beigeness.

It's one of my paintings from the "Monsters of Pop" show, which is still up at Gallery 1988 through this weekend. I'll roll out the others over the next week or so as I finish scanning and cleaning them up, and I've got some other drawings and such waiting in the wings as well. It's time to breathe some life back into the ol' brandonbird.com.

Art on the Way

I don't even know what happened to June and July; I've just been barreling towards this show, hoping to get some amount of paintings done in time:

"Monsters of Pop"
Brandon Bird, Kiersten Essenpreis, Dave MacDowell, Netherland
Opening Reception Tuesday August 11, runs till September 5th
Gallery 1988
7020 Melrose, Los Angeles CA

If you can make it out, please do.

And then... I think that's going to be my last gallery show for a while. It's cool they've helped raise my profile & selling price, but they're also anathema to how I like to exist. I feel I was at something of a peak from 2003 to 2006 or so (curiously, when I wasn't so much self-employed as unemployed). I'd think of something--a Law & Order coloring book or what have you--and then just... make it. Now it's more like, "Shit, I just got the best idea ever, but I have to paint Magneto tonight and the next night and the night after that." So I don't mean I'm not going to exhibit, just that I'm not going to commit to any long-term, outside deadlines, and be more open to possibilities as they crop up. Does that even make sense?

Speaking of wich, here's some stuff that's cropped up or in the process of cropping up: I'll have a table at APE in San Francisco in October. I also met the Topatoco dudes for the three hours I was at Comic-con; they're getting a hugemongous booth next year and I'll be there to join in the hoe-down. I might sneak in to some of the East Coast cons, too.

New York City's War on Crime

To Dana in the comments who asked for some Noth, here's a sketch from long ago of Logan and his pixie-partner:


I totally forgot that I was going to the New York comic-con this Friday and Saturday. I won't be signing or anything, but if you hunt me down, I will give you a Valentine. Hint: I look like the guy in that box over there.

November 7th, Philadelphia

One of the gallery founders is Jon Halperin, friend, generous benefactor to contemporary art, and owner of an enormous John Tesh. Delivering the painting to his home was like stepping into the tomb of an ancient Egyptian pharaoh who'd chosen to be buried in an issue of Juxtapoz.

So I'm betting it'll be a lasting space with a lot of strong shows. I think for this first one I'll be sending them Spidey.