Thursday, August 27, 2015

Marc Shoul at Blue Sky Gallery, Portland

Marc Shoul

Where doe stuff come from and do we care enough to ask there important question what sacrifices are made and by whom? These days it seems we lost the ability to differentiate between worth and what its worth. It's all about the bottom line and not just for cooperation which we love to blame. It's about how cheap can I get my bling my merchandize. It used to be that quality was the criteria and life standard and durability. Todays world is a throw away world and in the process we lost our values that made the human race special or so we claimed. Once we mind everything our mind will only find emptiness.

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Wednesday, August 26, 2015

"Shapes and other things to come" by Richard Schemmerer

"Shapes and other things to come" by Richard Schemmerer

Shapes and other things to come

I can paint you a rainbow but I can’t promise you rain. I can predict trends but I can’t make a cloud.
I can spell “Plus Quam Imperfect” but can’t explain what it is. I can seed the present but don’t know what I will harvest in the future. I know that when I stop looking for something I see the most.
I n the middle of the pond floats an idea, floats hope, floats a body slipping into the future pushed by the currents of expectations.
Language is the agitator, the wind storm that pushes these waves of options onto the shore of possibility.
The hope is that someone will recognize their potential and seed them in fertile ground amongst a people who harvest wisely only what’s ripened to its fullest, most promising, nourishing to become rejuvenating ideas and to let the rest float back into the pond of life so they too can become the hope for better options in the best possible future.

copyright Richard Schemmerer

Friday, August 21, 2015

"Where the f---k are they now: Alex Pardee -- Monster Mash

Alex Pardee -- where are they now series --

Once in awhile you come across an artist that sticks out and you are not the only one who notices.

After a wave of hype about Pardee's art that borders on the grotesque he seems to have disappeared into the art casket of yesterdays hype monster.

Most artists work in obscurity and would be happy to rise above the heap just for a brief moment to find validation.

If the carrier goes on and the artist becomes an art brand it shows that art and commerce is inseparable if one once to be considered a success. Check out his newest poster release.

Alex Pardee is still sucking ink in a land of confusion which is a good description for most artists without gold chip representation.

Art Fame is the monster that rules the head and Pardee's art gives us images to picture these visions.

more info at

"Vertigo" by Alex Pardee at Corey Helford


I've seen Alex Pardee's work once before in Portland and have to say that his work is the strongest when paited in acrylic.
Sure I always feel sucker punched by his visuals but the powerful craftmanship keeps me coming back for more.

The Art itself describes the universal horrors of life in excruciating figuratives but also dazzles in vibrant colors to trap us in our confusion not knowing if we should love the work or be convulsed by it.

Vertigo is hunting the Nightmare that hunts each one of us once in awhile.

You have to see this show even if you run the danger of being plagued by nightmares afterwards but maybe you are as lucky as Alex Pardee who says about himself that his dreams are mundane.
The show is beautifully displayed at Corey Helford Gallery and offers some surprising installations to flesh out the exhibit.

"Vertigo" by Alex Pardee at Corey Helford

read the interview with Alex at

"Escape" by Richard Schemmerer

"Escape" by Richard Schemmerer

"Optical delusion"

photography by Richard Schemmerer

Where is the escape, has it escaped me? Mostly I think life is like a museum which it is. It houses all the events past and present and will contain the future. The question is who is curating this fucked up installation. I’ve decide not to die I mean not in the sense of conventional death.

Anyway the window frames seem to dissolve like the frames to who I am and who I want to be, should be, will be. Changed I move on through this landscape of an insane artist some call G>OD> and abbreviation for “grand overall design.“
Is it really that grand this messy Jonathan Meese anti establishment garbage pit. Sure you can blame me for seeing what I am seeing. Like as if I could deny being in denial.
I could yarn bomb a street sign and feel better for a minute until I need another five hour energy drink to make the world seem less erratic or at least make me feel that I was able to keep in step with it like a soldier marching into the abyss singing clever hymns.

I am revoluting like in revolting just more like in repeating the same thought process but with new thoughts.

Where is the escape, has it escaped me? I was the underdog ain’t underdogs suppose to win. Well the establishment has licked everyone’s ass hyperbolically and otherwise. Was I to clever for my own good which usually means I was to stupid to see the bigger picture.

At least 80 % of the world population are plugged into God but is he plugged into them. Is God a dead end, a highway or a two way lane. Hitchens got caught in a “Catch 22” and died a horrible death but so do others who are do-gooders.

Its popular to be anti populous its popular to be popular.

Art fucks me; no not really but it’s a blog on face book that embraces the crappy and the abjective. No it doesn’t but we do from the Jersey Shore to the recreated shanties in our museums. Life is a whack job, formalism or not and God is the god father of all god fathers.

Art is my shield, my blanket, my life vest and life boat but floating on garbage is not what I had envisioned for my life. This could be something if God would let it be but he said that I have to let it be.
It's like I am the frame I am holding up. I am the painting I am painting. I am the judge that is being judged.

I am assuming studio hours during the duration of my life’s installation. Junky moves follw my unreasonable thought patterns. What I wanted to say disolved into a monochromatic fog leaving no residue of memory like a stair way to nowhere but at the same time leading into eternity.

Luckily nobody knows about this and I haven’t been outed as of yet.I guess there is still time to escape

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Dru Donovan at Hap Gallery, Portland

Carving the lung

Dru Donovan at Hap Gallery

The body is our vessel is the container that makes life possible for us. It is amazing but it is not perfect but subordinate to the laws of Nature with all its invaders. The self reflects what it perceives and strives to find happiness through physicality's.
The mirror is society with its ever expanding demands on our attention. The body is undergoing constant modification through the process of aging and the way we use our bodies resources. Sometimes its all about superficial modification other times it hits us in our core level of survival. These images remind us that we are all strong and vulnerable alike.

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Whack job by Richard Schemmerer

"Freedom fighter" collage by Richard Schemmerer

Whack job

Governments are not always our friend.
Other times the enemy lives with us
Waiting for our moments of weakness
other times we become our own heroes
many times we are our own enemy
the strong fight for the weak
to built on a perfected world
whack jobs try to run the country
mental hurdles need to be jumped
the faces of tomorrow are reflecting
the worries of todays left behind
nothing can be saved until
we accept that the flows we have
need to be addresses globally
no individual can become the savior
the rainbow shines in electric colors
as Fukushima makes the oceans glow
the Rolling Stones can get no satisfaction
but satisfaction is not guarantied
satisfaction is the peace we have not found
because we think in terms of war
we twitter our pains and Instagram our dreams
we Facebook our memories and forget
that live happens not on a shiny screen but
in the illuminated meadows of an ancient forest

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Red Bull Flugtag Portland by Richard Schemmerer

Red Bull Flugtag Portland by Richard Schemmerer

Flugtag & Red Bull & Portland go together like a Chiwawa with a rattle snake birthed by a Mermaid. Yeah the weird meets its master in this not so run of the mill event. High on adrenaline ordinary geeks in bad fitting home stitched super hero outfits throw themselves from crazy ramp into the barely legal Columbia river. Portland is still the poster child of a city that knows business but doesn't forget to take itself not to serious in the process of spotting a mark on the corporate ladder. The appetite for the unusual is enormous in this city that has barely touched its potential.