Friday, January 26, 2018

forest

I bought a used set of flat files from an office furniture warehouse in 2004.  The horizontal drawers appear organized from the outside, strong and stacked like frank lloyd wright's roman bricks.  A label holder is centered on each drawer face, but I don't find that necessary yet.  I know that four or five drawers contain piles of watercolors from years past, some as old as the late 1990's.


The Spellerberg Project Space on Main Street has three white walls now peppered with tacked watercolors of mine that I pulled from these files.  On the backs of some of these are hand-written words in pencil: "St.Wolfgang field trip", or "painted in alcohol, Evansville, Ind."  Not much of a note taker, I value the few words I mustered then.  They guide me to that crouched painting position I held twenty years ago, cigarettes, loose change thrown at me, watercolor dried by direct sunlight.


Forest green.  It's a representation of green that is averaged from the various leaves of a deciduous forest.  It usually has more grey in it than I at first prefer.  But my eyes adjust, and then I'm calmed.  Like being absorbed into the surroundings, or seeing the cluster of chaos as something unified and singular.


I'm going to hang out at this small gallery space during the next few weekends.  Come in and say hello if you walk by.  Or yell down the street, email me, and I'll be there in two minutes flat.



Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Spellerberg

Flooded with memories.  I feel this when I visit my family in Indiana.  The shapes of houses, the height of trees, the negative windchill and its force to remain indoors.  


Saturday, January 20 here in Lockhart, Spellerberg Projects will open at the Masur Building a show of artwork and music and cocktails.  This is my own Bedford Falls hometown and I'm excited to see the people I call my friends and neighbors.  I can walk to my exhibition.


I've been preparing for new things in this 2018.  Not quite ready yet, but I am excited as I try my best to remain patient.  Not at all the way I normally do things.


Please let me know (by emailing me at info@christopherstleger.com) if you'd like to be added to my contact list.  I'd like to share what I've got cooking.