Notes For a 2007 Essay About Sparks I Recovered From My Stuck In Time Myspace

Sparks is the product that proves you can pay off the FDA. (2010 note: but not forever.) In the nineties when The Drew Carey Show reminded national audiences of Cleveland's existence, the idea of the show's "Buzz Beer" was laughable, a sitcom concoction of beer and coffee. While Sparks and other alcoholic "energy" drinks taste nothing much like those two liquids, the idea of Buzz Beer - along with "Irish Coffee" - is a suitable antecedent for this confounding in a can. Not produced continually for thousands of years following a process passed down from inebriate to inebriate like wine or beer but as a marketing concept that materialized after the fallout of the XTREME early-2000's action sport craze, Sparks combines xtreme uppers (caffeine et al) with xtreme downers (alcohol). Sparks seems to say that even in our resplendent nighttimes of fraternity and partyhood Americans still wish to be able to "work harder" and "accomplish more" and need the "energy" to do it. Conceptualized then as the ultimate party hopper's drink and initally marketed through the coke worshipping press (Vice), Sparks has become ubiquitous in gas stations across the heartland, becoming the choice of Fratamerica, the energymaker behind so many daterapes and brofights. 

But what is Sparks? It tastes like it has the chemical makeup of house paint and is obviously packed full of carcinogens whether we currently "officially" know that or not. Its yellowish piss stains tongues with high fructose corn syrup and Yellow 5 color dye. Its caffeine doesn't keep you up all night - it's no substitute for coke - but it does alarm clock you four hours after you've passed out with Sparks stomach, the shakes, heart palpitations and morning insomnia when you just want to sleep off your bad, energetic decisions. It's actually - xtremely let's say - the worst drink in the world. 

THIS PIECE OF WORK IS PART OF A LARGER PROJECT THAT IS INDICATIVE OF MY PRACTICE

This piece of work is part of a larger project that is indicative of my practice

For most artists who go to art school to study art and produce what the outside world calls “art” it doesn’t suffice to say “this is my art” or “I am an artist.” Clearly, those wordings are just too clear.

Some straw men would say those phrases smack of pomposity and they would go on to repeat “I am an artist” using the French “artiste” to make everyone aware of the pretentiousness it entails. But if avoiding pretentiousness is the goal of avoiding the word “art” one would think the term “maker,” as it is one step away from the godly “creator,” would seem a bit inflated. But no, “maker” is trending toward ubiquity on art school campuses and “a creative” is already mainstream terminology. It seems anything – as long as it is not “art” and “artist” – is fine to call art and artists.

For those in the unlucky position of having to talk to the products of the artist-intellectual complex, those unwashed masses “looking for funding” because they are “working on a project,” you will be all too familiar with the following terms, which are usually preceded by a “my.”

  “piece”            “practice”          “work”          “project”

This Is A Comic Book Catalog

This is the catalog for a show I curated last year with Colleen Grennan for the Mahan Gallery.
Inside are examples of each artist's work, essays by Anne Elizabeth Moore, Dave Filipi, J.Caleb Mozzocco, and interviews with Phonzie Davis and Jane Lee.

Here is a review of the show at Every Day is Like Wednesday.
Here is an article about the show by Melissa Starker.
Here is a blurb about it on the Wexner Center Blog.
Here is a blurb about it on Bust.