Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Commerce Gallery Lockhart

15 years ago Andrea and I moved from an east Austin rental into an old wooden house with a barn in the backyard that I made into my studio.  At the time I knew nobody in Lockhart and commuted to Austin for work and play.  I created work here, but I showed the work at Davis Gallery in Austin, McMurtrey Gallery in Houston, or George Billis in NYC.  Anywhere but here.


2019. 03. 01.  I am excited to announce the opening of Commerce Gallery in Lockhart, TX.  My new studio location as well as a permanent space for showing and selling my work.  


Donna Blair and Tamara Carlisle, of Blairfield Realty, are both art collectors and the owners of Commerce Gallery.  They plan to rotate a new guest artist every 8-10 weeks with openings on every First Friday of the month.  The first show will feature new and old work by Patrick Puckett of Austin.  Opening an art gallery is something Donna and Tamara have wanted to do together for years.  I'm just thrilled to be part of it.


Hours will be Wednesday - Sunday 11am-5pm.  Website will be up soon.
Landline: 512-668-4288.
I will be there in the alley studio Mon-Friday 9-5.  If you wish to stop by, let me know and I'll open the front.

Wednesday, January 16, 2019

Nani Mari

Choosing to be a painter could have been titled "the analogue way" or "I prefer to work with my hands".  It was a conversion, a leap.  And it happened while I was in Hungary.  


You could say that Hungary and I are now forever connected.  My family and I are freshly back from visiting, and I'm already planning our 2019 autumn trip.


Twenty years ago I 
hotmailed my friends that I was going off the grid, leaving the city of Budapest where I'd been for a few years to then reside in Transdanubia (western Hungary).  Spent most of the warm months 2001-02 working on (mostly not working on) this old house that I purchased because of the way it opens toward the south, or as I liked to think, toward the mediterranean 200 miles away.  The folks around the village knew it as the Nani Mari House (Aunt Marie).  Who was the real Nani Mari and what was she like, I'm not sure, but who was I to call her house something else?


Twenty years ago the cute little nascent internet repelled me.  I was high on feeling far and distant, hard to reach.  I'd pass the village payphone at the end of the street and my neighbor had a donkey.  Water came from the well in a bucket.  It was 2001.  My idea of the future still meant bad reception.  Connectedness was picking up an old friend at the nearby train depot.


Then about twelve years ago, from Texas and out of anxiety that Nani Mari might collapse from neglect, I began managing the renovation of Nani Mari remotely, as in via my smart phone.  My distant and romantic edge-of-the-earth getaway was getting bathroom tile, and I was emailing my contractor about our choice of grout.  Under the Tuscan Sun, but from my macbook.


I paint portraits of my two children at the dining table as they play cards.  Andi is cooking something with paprika in a pan on a gas stove behind me.  More alive than I'd ever imagined, Nani Mari saw me through my twenties and into my forties and is one of the closest things to pure dream fulfillment I've ever experienced.