Category Archives: Art Reviews


A majority of the interviews/articles/reviews re: Ian Pyper make a point to state that Mr. Pyper is a tad on the laconic side. I have been in communiqué with the artist on numerous occasions and have never found him wanting for dialogue. No, he doesn’t ramble as much as I do, but then why does he need to? Ian Pyper’s  quite prolific art speaks for him and that art is one of relentless communication.

In this , Ian is a kindred spirit in the realm of outsider art, brut , visionary ,  fringe , primitive, or whatever term one wishes to apply in the those (often) tiresome blanks.  Regardless of what term one applies, Ian Pyper simply has a voice all his own.

Ian and other unconventional artists have been taking the art world by storm over the last few years and there is a reason for that.   The academic art school route has gone stale, becoming decorative and/or hopelessly commercial, appeasing to either dishonest aesthetics or consumerism.  Ian, and like-minded artists have defiantly grinded the  “steamroller blues”, utilizing their unique voices:  gallery themes, and marketing strategies be damned.

Ian Pyper’s work is certainly open to various interpretations. For me, his work bespeaks a visual world that blows in from the winds of the most ancient of ancients, and flows outward to a delightfully strange, ambiguous , music-filled future. Pyper world is one that is kin to the Italian Futurists , the surreal beatniks, post-serial music, and two-fisted, post-modern spirituality. Clearly, this is an intensely personal vision which, wisely, Ian does not spell out for the viewer , but his  world-view optimism seeps through all his idiosyncratic images of aliens, cave creatures, Grand Inquisitors, absurd two-headed saints, crucifixions, icons, God angels,  God’s eye, God’s hand, primitive masks, death heads, pyramids, fish, birds, scorpions, the wild west, tanks, apocalyptic aeroplanes, helicopters, spaceships, scenes of intergalactic wars, totem poles, and the Holy Trinity as you never saw it depicted in church.

I can’t quite put my finger on Ian Pyper , and I prefer it that way. However, I did notice that before I had sat down to write this,  I had just revisited Palazzeschi’s “Man of Smoke”, and Morton Subotnick’s electronic (and fun) bleepy composition,  “Silvery Apples of the Moon.” Initially, it was a subliminal connection, but after revisiting Ian’s work I realized I had just left these similar worlds before crossing into his. It was a good, familiar feeling.


From: Keith Banner, Butler County Board of MR/DD

Date: January 22, 2002

The Middletown Fine Arts Center, The Art Thing Project, & Empowered
People with Disabilities present…

When Silence Becomes Singing

…an art exhibit of paintings, sculptures, drawings, and words by
Antonio Adams, Kendra Bayer, Richard Brown, Cheryl Conley, Dan
Dagenbach, Jarel Galloway, Stevie Grueter, Patty Kempf, Pam Myrick,
Paul Rowland, Eric Ryan, Rose Sattler, Gregory Soellner Jr., Raymond
Thunder-Sky, Kevin White, and many others.

It opens March 22, 2002 at the Middletown Fine Arts Center in
Middletown, Ohio, with a reception from 6 to 8 PM. The Middletown
Fine Arts Center is located at 130 North Verity Parkway, and the
phone number is (513) 424-2417. You can also check out their web-
site or the Art Thing Project web-site. The show runs through April
11, 2002.

The artists in this exhibit use their art to let us know who they
are, and to give us a reason to celebrate what we have in common
with each other. Some of these artists are people who have done art
their whole lives. Others have just come to it. The works range from
group projects such as a self-standing mural (done by local high
school students, self advocates, a painter, and a poet), to a
collaborative project done through the mail between two artists who
live in different states (one with a disability and one without), to
innovative, visionary art done by several local self-taught artists.
The exhibit not only showcases beautiful, original art, it also
highlights the connection between making art and having your voice
heard. It is a celebration of silence becoming singing.

For more information, call Keith Banner at (513) 867-5932, Bill Ross
at (513) 587-7271, or email at

* Here is another one I found in the Fringe Ezine that I posted there in 2004. I guess I was documenting it.


While going through our old yahoo group: The Fringe Ezine, I stumbled upon two articles I posted there from 2004.  Both are by David Wecker who I finally met a few months ago,  during the shooting of our documentary of artist Raymond Thunder-Sky in Cincinnati. As per the norm, I had forgotten all about posting these but, it was a bit like finding some old gems. Much has happened since then. Raymond passed just a few months after these articles were published, Keith Banner and Bill Ross departed V & V and started their own gallery, named after Raymond, and there seems to be no stopping the art of Antonio Adams.

There is also a third article, about Antonio Adams, but for some reason, in 2004, I did not post where it came from, or even who wrote it.

the art thing project
Art show embraces ‘outsiders’
Column by The Post’s David Wecker

The Art Thing Project began taking shape with the first display of
Raymond Thunder-Sky’s drawings.

You might have read about it here last spring. You’d probably
recognize Raymond if you saw him. He’s the stocky guy in the hard
hat and the polka-dotted clown suit who hangs out at construction
sites all over town.

Raymond is fascinated with heavy equipment and, in h particular, the
wrecking ball. His caseworker with the Hamilton County Board of
Mental Retardation and Developmental Disability – Bill Ross is his
name – discovered he was turning scenes of
construction/deconstruction into colorful drawings. His work was
magical and strikingly original, with an odd draftsman-like quality.
There was no strutting, no pretention, no ego to any of it.

Bill arranged for a few dozen of Raymond’s drawings to be exhibited
at a gallery in Over-the-Rhine about this time last year. Bill wrote
a few lines about Raymond’s work on a card and tacked it to the
gallery wall:

”These drawings are only a small sampling of Raymond’s output, but
they best represent both his obsessive style & subject matter. He
seems to be creating his own technically beautiful universe in his
art, a place that is both being destroyed and rebuilt at the same

Keith Banner, a friend of Bill’s who works for the MRDD in Butler
County, has a client in Hamilton who, like Raymond, has definite
artistic leanings. This guy, whose name is Paul Rowland, writes down
every bit of dialogue from movies or TV shows on index cards,
illustrates the cards, carefully laminates them, then binds them
into books, sometimes by twisting paper clips.

His favorites are ”Titanic,” ”Lost in Space” and ”Star Trek.”
Using a closed caption service, Paul hits the pause button and jots
down whatever words appear on the screen. Sometimes, he draws
pictures of what he sees when the video is stopped. Sometimes, he
blends stories together and puts himself in the action, like so:


What happened with the Art Things Project was, Keith and Bill got to
talking about various MRDD clients who create various kinds of art
of their own invention – highly improbable pieces of art that no one
else in the world would ever imagine.

Aside from Raymond and Paul, there’s Richard Brown, who has autism
and who creates impressionistic paintings of flowers and landscapes
that seem to vibrate with energy.

And there’s Antonio Adams, who builds cat-robots out of thrown-away
pieces of lumber, Elmer’s glue and construction paper, then expertly
decorates them. He gives each a name and lists it along with a brief
description in a catalog he has for keeping track of them.

One is named Jennifer, ”a catteenage girl being stupid cancer
person to acting so strange.” Another is Manson, ”a good nice
handsome cat look organize for influence to say meow.” And Crystal
is ”a catwoman very trueful and affirmative lovely.”

The Art Thing Project is about the work of Raymond and Paul and
Antonio and Richard. Keith calls it ”outsider art,” created by
four guys who have been labeled all their lives, outsiders from the
world of art and the world in general, guys who have been doing what
they do for years, even though no one was watching. These are guys
who go in their rooms, lock their doors and make stuff that’s truly

Keith and Bill pitched the idea of an exhibit of outsider art to the
Corbett Foundation and received a $3,000 grant. The show opens at
the Base Art Gallery, 1311 Main St., at 6 p.m. Friday and continues
through April 22.

”Most artists wish they could have these same qualities in their
work – the passion, the obsession, the magic,” Keith said.

”These guys know exactly what they’re doing. They know exactly how
they want something to look and exactly where to put what objects,
what colors.

”They don’t think about what’s fashionable or acceptable. They know
what they need to do without deliberating or concerning themselves
with what will sell.”

You can contact David Wecker at (513) 352-2791 or via e-mail at

Disabilities disappear in ‘outsider’ artists’ studio

Column by The Post’s David Wecker

It started out as something to try, just to see what would happen.
Take a handful of self-taught artists, outsiders, and find out if
anyone could see the magic.
Bill Ross and Keith Banner thought it was worth a shot. They’re
caseworkers with the boards of mental health and developmental
disability, Bill in Hamilton County and Keith in Butler. Bill is an
artist himself, a painter. Keith is a writer who has work in the O.
Henry collection.

They’d noticed that some of their clients have surprising abilities.
Their work is strikingly original, uninfluenced by anything but
their own visions. Never mind if no one is paying attention;
whatever is inside them will not stay there.

Bill and Keith saw through their obsessions. They invited some of
the guys to display their work in a Main Street gallery where they
had memberships.

Antonio Adams brought space cat robots made from blocks of wood.
Richard Brown painted landscapes and floral arrangements that came
from a brighter, splashier world. Paul Rowland volunteered his
illustrated “Star Trek” and “Titanic” manuscripts into which he’d
inserted himself. Raymond Thunder-Sky, a true Cincinnati original in
his hard hat and clown costumes, added colorful sketches inspired by
demolition scenes he’s visited from one end of I-275 to the other,
wherever the Queen City Metro would take him.

The first show, called the Art Thing Project, was in March 2001. The
line of people waiting to get in wound around the block. There was
wine and brie, just like at normal art shows. Raymond wore one of
his jazzier clown outfits. Hundreds of people saw the magic. The
guys all sold pieces.

Bill and Keith aren’t the kind who trade high-fives. But if they
were, they would have that night

“On the street, it’s hard to ‘get’ what someone like Raymond does,”
Keith says.

“But if you have a clean space where his work can be collected and
displayed in frames — the framing gives it respect, legitimacy —
it’s easier for people to understand.”

Says Bill, “We really knew then we were doing something that was
necessary — we knew we had to continue.”

Much has happened since then. The Hamilton County MRDD contributed
$9,200 to rent space in an old textile warehouse in Walnut Hills for
an increasing number of artists from sheltered workshops to use for
a studio.

Bill and Keith landed a grant from the Greater Cincinnati Foundation
to hire Shawna Guit as studio coordinator. United Cerebral Palsy of
Cincinnati came on board, bringing artists with physical

Bit by bit, Bill and Keith built the Art Thing Project into an
actual program. They decided to call it Visionaries and Voices.

The work of their Cincinnati outsiders has been featured in a dozen
shows from New York to L.A. Raymond had a one-man show last April,
where he sold 22 drawings for $150 apiece. Antonio’s work has sold
for $450. Joe Kessler, a stroke victim who puts together Cincinnati
landscapes with scissors and construction paper, regularly sells
stuff for $200 to $400.

Visionaries and Voices includes about two dozen artists who come to
the studio on a regular basis — and about 50 more who’ve gotten
help marketing their work. One of my favorites is Barbara Moran of
Topeka, Kan., who found out about Visionaries and Voices on the Web.
Her cartoon-y drawings feature smiling traffic lights just hanging
out, a weeping Enola Gay hating herself for dropping the bomb and
cathedral people in provocative come-hither poses.

The talk around the studio is that Barbara is competing with Raymond
to see who can be the group’s most prolific artist. Raymond shrugs.

One afternoon this week, a half-dozen outsider artists with
diagnoses ranging from schizophrenia to autism to dyslexia were
working busily at the studio. The place was a beehive. The people
here had all been defined as disabled, but in this setting, they
clearly were not.

Raymond arrived around 1 p.m., put on a ruffled collar and got to
work on a rendering inspired by a demolition site he’d seen on a
recent trip to Detroit. Raymond’s father, by the way, was the last
hereditary Mohawk chief. Watching Raymond work is like being in the
presence of the great white buffalo.

Next to him, Earl Hunter was delicately shaping a miniature clay
sculpture of a fanciful being with no skin — just bones and organs.
He told me he looks at trees and makes the things he sees in their

Bill was at work on a paper cutter, making fliers for an upcoming
Visionaries and Voices fund-raiser. He said the money from the
county to pay Shawna’s salary runs out in July.

“This could all go away very easily,” he said

“That would be a sad thing,” Keith added.

“For these people finally to have a place, to do so well, to become
so well-recognized, then to lose it — that would really suck.”

So here’s the pitch. Expand your perception of “disabled” and find
out what these guys do. The fund-raiser begins with an “Everybody is
a Star” exhibit that runs from 6 to 9 p.m. Friday, April 30, at the
American Classical Music Hall of Fame and Museum, 4 W. Fourth St.,
downtown Cincinnati.

Meet Raymond, Antonio and many other extraordinary people living
through their art. If you find something you like, come back for the
silent auction May 8. It starts at 3 p.m.

Contact David Wecker at 352-2791 or via e-mail at sambets@

Antonio Adams is a self-taught artist. His hands are the speech of
his imagination. In the seclusion of his one bedroom apartment,
Antonio has assembled hundreds of unique, robot-like wooden
sculptures. His black and white sketches represent his unbridled
vision of the world as he sees it.

A creative genius by most standards, Antonio’s work has been
exhibited at shows in Columbus, Cincinnati, Nashville, New York
City, and Washington D.C. However, until recent years, his talents –
like those of so many others with disabilities – remained
undiscovered, hidden behind the walls of solitude. Ignored and

That is, until two social workers with a love of art, took it upon
themselves to open closed doors for these “hidden” artists. Almost
daily, Bill Ross and Keith Banner, who work for county boards of
mental retardation and developmental disabilities, were discovering
masterful talent in basements, bedrooms and garages. It was pure art
at its finest, unabashed interpretation of a world inaccessible
except through the mind.

In 2001, Bill and Keith gave voice to the voiceless. Calling
themselves “The Art Thing Project”, about 40 local artists including
Antonio held an inaugural exhibit at Over-the-Rhine’s Base Gallery.
The event was the highest attended grand opening ever in the history
of the Gallery, and most of the pieces sold.

“What was really great was that the discussions that night weren’t
about the artists’ disabilities. It was all about the beauty, purity
and value of self-taught artists,” said Bill. A grass root effort
had begun.

In August, 2003, as a collaboration with the United Cerebral Palsy
of Cincinnati and PLAN of Southwest Ohio, an accessible 1,200 square
foot studio/gallery in the Essex Studios (home to 100 other artists
without disabilities) was opened.

It was Antonio’s vision. Visionaries and Voices was to be a platform
for voices otherwise unheard, faces normally unseen, talent
historically untapped. The studio/gallery is a central space for
self-taught artists to work on their own or with other artists, sell
their works, and produce resumes, portfolios, and slides to send to
other galleries across the nation. It sponsors exhibits at the Essex
Studios and other venues – inviting artists with and without
disabilities to showcase their pieces.

The 40 plus artists participating in Visionaries and Voices, are no
longer obscure. Admired by art connoisseurs, their creative voices
have inspired a whole new culture that includes academics, art-
collectors, festivals, museums and galleries.

Joe Kestler, 57, said he had a stroke of good luck in 1993. He had
tried his hand at art once before, even enrolled in the Art Academy
of Cincinnati for a semester, but he never really felt like he
could “catch on”. Discouraged, he applied his skills to another art,
as a dog groomer. His first stroke, followed by a second, forced an
abrupt career change. He’s been interpreting life scenes on paper
ever since. He calls his art “paperings” because he uses colored
construction paper.

“Paperings” are sort of like paintings, only the intricate details
are carefully cut and placed pieces of paper. His inspiration is a
favorite photograph or image. Each piece takes about 40 hours or
more to create “When I work on a picture, I have real doubts that I
can do it, but I keep telling myself that I can no matter what,” he
said. Until Visionaries and Voices, Joe’s work was ignored. Now, he
said, “I’m well received as an artist. It gets me to feel more open
because I’m not just doing it for myself any more. Others really
like my work. It’s a gift.”

Antonio would agree. “We are all people and all have energy to


A stroll down East 10th Street  in the 1990s was never a casual experience. Arrests, drug deals done in public view, hookers, tattoo parlors and random gunshots were the norm. In the center of all this was a small hidden art gallery called “Utrillo’s Art.”

In the window  of Utrillo’s Art one frequently saw small, pop art paintings of kitty cats, or a friendly landscape, which did not prepare you at all for what you found inside and that was usually the many works of Jan Scott Boyer. Boyer himself was a frequent patron of the gallery. He rarely spoke and one could not help notice the pistol attached to his belt. His hand never strayed far from his gun. Greg Brown, the owner of that late gallery, only explained that Boyer was hyper sensitive, so I didn’t inquire, but oh, did I absorb Boyer’s work. Boyer, like his work, is enigmatic, but it is a loud sort of mysteriousness which you are forced to respect.

Boyer refers to his work as “Allism.” I’m not sure what that means, but I am sure that the description seems apt since his imagery seems to include just about everything, including the kitchen sink. Boyer’s earlier works were often sexually graphic. That quality has long since disappeared, but his work is no less provocative and no less hypnotic.

Among the earlier works is the epic “Circus of the Imagination” with literally thousands of figures crammed into what could only be described as something akin to a Hieronymus Bosch or Ken Russell carnival.  “Allism: The Next Wave” features rocketing giant penises amidst a disturbingly surreal universe. In that canvas and in canvases such as “Days in Taranta”, ‘Allism Pyramid”, ‘Allism in Toyland”, and “Worlds of Allism” unspeakable acts of torture  and sexual humiliations are being perpetrated upon  exposed women. These works are as unsettling as stumbling upon one of the many second and third century Gnostic Apocalypses. Understandably, damn few women responded to Boyer’s works from that period.

Later, Boyer’s works became increasingly obsessed with his unique shapes and compositions, taking him into the realms of energized landscapes, such as ‘Superstructure” and “Skyline.” Voodoo masks were a frequently repeated them, and later Boyer ventured into complete abstraction in canvases titled  “Infinite Energy Array” and “Shattered.”

* I came across a 1995 treasure: a Nuvo article on Jan Scott Boyer, that I thought couldn’t be more perfect. It was written by art critic Sharon Calhoon.

“ARTIST JAN SCOTT BOYER has been writing to me for about 18 months.
Sometimes it’s once a week, sometimes once a month. All the letters
are the same- usually on legal paper, cursive at the beginning,
jabbingly printed at the end, highlighted with red underline marks
and words running in every direction.
They all read the same. Here’s part of his March 12,1995 letter-
which is much like the others:
Dear Miss Calhoon
I have solidified STRONG SUPPORT for my ALLISM ART on Mass Ave,
Galleries, I am getting a following downtown, my ALLISM ART is being
collected already, now I am about to expand to another gallery, one
perhaps two are ready to give me a serious ALLISM Show. I plan a show
in 95 in Indianapolis, perhaps Chicago, I will go to Chicago next,
will expand to Broadripple too.
ALLISM is the HOTTEST art in Indy.I will simply let them see the
magnetic art power, will ignite INSTANT momentum, chain reaction,
make instant MOST visible. ALLISM IS MY CUBISM, only MORE powerful.
ROCK IS ALLISM NEXT WAVE most powerful cutting edge thing going on
in art in Indy, AMERICA, if you are a SERIOUS PROFESSIONAL AT ALL
come to my studio bring MR. Ullmann.
Black hole of ART UNIVERSE. Dare to go beyond.
Jan Scott Boyer Creator of Allism.

After years of this kind of relentless communication with just about
everyone remotely connected with art, Boyer is finally being
exhibited at the Denoument Gallery. Though Boyer is actually a damn-
fine painter, his imagery couldn’t be more disturbing.
It is obsessive sexual imagery where nude and wicked women are
exposed and posed in the most degrading manner. They are dismembered.
Devilish heads emerge from their abdomens while the monster’s horns
spear the evil goddess’s huge breasts. Every manner of body fluid is
squirting out of every imaginable and unimaginable site. Boyer
totally exposes these women’s labium and rectums. Multiple large
penises of many colors penetrate the women. Long tongues snake toward
the orifices. Fecal matter oozes forth.
In some of the smaller canvases Boyer focuses on a singular evil
queen. In larger works there is a network of such women, who exist in
corners of the futuristic Allism metropolis. In these scenes, BLADE
RUNNER landscape meets the psycho, carnivorous sexual pervert.
Most critics, gallery owners and media persons have believed if they
ignored Boyer, he would go away. There has been a universal attitude
of ‘not encouraging’ him. Despite his treatment, Boyer has
Steven Stoller, Denoument Gallery’s owner, said he gave Boyer the
exhibit because the artist has followed his personal vision for
seven years, regardless of the media and art community’s inattention.
Stoller considers Boyer an outsider artist and he may be right.
In the largest definition of the term, outsider art is created by a
self taught artist who works tirelessly in a vernacular of his own
invention. He is not influenced by market or fad. Where Boyer
separates himself from true outsider artists, though, is in his
obsession to gain attention for his work.
Some pretty pushy artists have sent mail my way, but none come close
to Boyer. His pestering  borders on harassment .Although I’d seen a
piece or two of Boyer’s art over the last two years, I went to his
opening because you never know where genius lurks. There IS something
lurking in Boyer and his work, and it’s pretty creepy. At the
opening Boyer told me that if I wrote about him, he wouldn’t bother
me again-and I have witnesses.”

Jan Scott Boyer’s work can be seen and purchased at the Artistic Spirit Gallery website, which is below, along with that site’s bio on Boyer.

Allism in Toyland

Artistic Spirit Bio:

Jan Scott Boyer was born in Indiana in 1941. He attended area Catholic schools but suffered from a learning disability and never attended high school. He began painting as a teenager and did both landscapes and abstracts. He traveled and sold his canvases all over the Midwest but was overcome by stress and placed on disability. His career has been a study of contrasts. He has been a three time prize winner at the Hoosier Salon. In 1989, he created “Allism,” an abstract motif that depicted horrendous scenes of torture. He has been placed under scrutiny because of a letter writing campaign to area art professionals but he has also been featured in local and national outsider art shows. The content of his work continues to evolve, as does his process. An overview of his paintings of the last fifteen years or so will show the deliberate changes he has made. The transition is never sudden but the viewer can see old merging with new forms until he has adapted to his latest subject matter and painting techniques. He will spend weeks completing details on his canvases, some containing hundreds of figures, buildings, or objects from his very creative imagination.


Ohio artist Bill Ross does not subscribe to the “aesthetics only” propaganda of the avant-garde.  As an art student in the 1980s, Ross was stubborn in regards to his work. Complete abstract expressionism was the accepted norm, but Ross’ work plunged the viewer into an idiosyncratic world of slapstick surrealism. Many reviewers have commented on Ross’ works and some of the usual descriptions are “candy colored”, “playful”, and “decorative.” While Ross’ work is all that, there is also an undeniable and inherent element of danger underneath a deceptively bright colored surface. That danger is a true trait of surrealism.

In the 21st century, abstract expressionism has long lost its edge. It has become academic and hopelessly safe, feeling quite at home in the local LS Ayres office, yet it’s elder brother, Surrealism, has lost none of its edge. One will not find the likes of a Hans Bellmer or Man Ray hanging on bank walls, even to this day. While New York gallery shows of avant-garde icons were  patronized by the champagne sipping elite, surrealists Luis Bunuel  and Andre Breton were pistol whipping offended patrons at the premiere of George Antheil’s “Ballet Mecanique.”

While I have yet to see patrons get beaten up at a Bill Ross opening, his most recent showing  at the 1305 Gallery in Cincinnati was an arch typical atmosphere with Ross inhaling a countless number of martinis and engaging in giggling, slurred kitchen gossip about an acquainted patron’s  propensity for group sex and, believe me, that elicited a sigh of relief in that Ross has refused to polish away his edge. Speaking only for myself, I would much rather engage in speculative talk about who may or may not engage in group sex over the aesthetics of painting on any given day, and even more so at a gallery opening.

Then, there is the work itself. In all of Ross’ work there is an underlining quality of  twitchy desperation injected into this euphoric weirdness. Ross’  work is a bit like those early 20th century dance marathons that always began in the happy happy joy joy  mode and inevitably ended in a perverse, frenzied, and  torturous dance til you literally drop dead. To be certain, Ross’ work celebrates life, but he doesn’t encourage that, he demands it.  Ross work reminds me of a Roselyn Bakery Cake symbolically come to life as dictator of the land. With its four inch think icing, you know it’s going to go down a delight that will  eventually kill you with corroded arteries and the like, but, by God, it demands that you eat it and enjoy it, consequences be damned. Of course, one can substitute Roselyn Baker Cakes with any happy vice, which, in my case, happens to be coffee by the pot with a pack of Marlboro Lights.

My own personal favorite of Ross’ works is a canvas depicting his favorite theme of a blue monkey, which , here, feeds a banana to a bed-ridden skeleton.  The disturbing, recurring theme of decapitated deer betray Ross’ origin of Indiana white trash, which he bear hugs with undying gratitude for having helped formed his freak flag. It is a flag he continues to fly high.

Ross and his militia  of blue monkeys, octopi, possums,  grizzly bears, kittens, and pancakes are a lot like those guilty pleasure vices. His art tastes damn fine and, even if it does kill you, at least you’ll die in a state of dizzied pleasure, not that you have any say so in the matter anyway.

* This is a first in a planned series of art reviews. Future reviews will include the art of Thunder-Sky artist Antonio Adams, along with UK Artist Ian Pyper, Michigan artist Mike Wrathell and Indiana artist Jan Scott Boyer.