Ahoy Matey, and Welcome to REPTIRE, an intermittent ‘ship’s blog’, chronicling the slow rise in the South Easterly skies of Reptire Designs; a studio that designs and crafts always artful, and sometimes useful THINGAMABOBS from old Indian Cucachou, aka ReTired Rubber.

Down Below, Ye shall find a permanent 'flagship post' marking the Maiden Voyage of Reptire Designs.

And below that, in the ‘hull’, can be found more recent posts chronicling the daring new adventures of Reptire Designs, dashed with small bits of whimsy, spotted pickerel, local color, and lizard lore..

In fact, on the right, in pale purple, ye shall find the Captain's Log’s Table of Previous Posts, which ye can peruse by year, month, and title to ye hearts content.

If ye haven't gotchyer sea legs yet, My Pretty, Ye can take a gander at our website at www.reptiredesigns.com, to get a proper Landlubber's Introduction.

Thanks for stopping in, I do hope you enjoy your visit aboard this ship! HARHARHARHAR.......

Sincerely, Travius Von Cohnifus

Captain, Founder, Indentured Servant, Rubber Alligator Wrestlor Extraordinaire a' this here ship.

enter the treadknot

On September 26th, 2006, I launched my tire art/design business, Reptire Designs, with a solo exhibition of my artwork in The Green Gallery at The Scrap Exchange Center for Creative Reuse, in Durham, NC. For many reasons, it was a night that I will always remember, and I am grateful to Laxmi (my girlfriend at the time) and Edie (my mother, still) for dutifully documenting while I shmoozed, so that I may now shmare a taste of the evening with anyone who was not able to attend...

On a cool but lively autumn night-before-Center Fest, a stream of friends and curious strangers trickled (like pebbles through a rain stick) through the forest of odds and ends (that roost at night in The Scrap Exchange), out into the warm light of the back savanna, a scene utterly glopped with bizarre rubbery hybrids. Tentative and curious, the visitors craned their necks, nibbled, pecked, stood back, moved in closer. From the walls, glassy mirror eyes gazed back through black unblinking eyelids, while beneath the visitor's feet, in a steamy drainage cistern, a mortal drama unfolded. Primordial forms, with no eyes at all, sat puckered on stoops. A cascade of glittering steal droplets formed a curtain, to which clung a colony of tiny tire knotlettes.

Vito D., a long-time collabator down from the Asheville area, caressed the warming air with his Strange Little Folk music. I bobbed and I flit, and at an increasing clip-someone must have opened the faucet a bit....for soon I was swooning, I just about lost it! As the evening progressed, to my delight and amazement, 'family' from Durham, Chapel Hill, Pittsboro, Hillsboro, Siler City, Asheville, and Fresno all made it! From the Cohn Clan to the Steudel Clan to the CFS Clan; from the WWC Clan to the Duke Ac Pub Clan to the SAF Clan; from the Bike Shop Clan to the Ninth St. Clan to the Scrap Clan... and every one in between, guys, they were all appearing before my stunned, blinking eyes. While I spun and I splayed, Vito now played-CHURNED- up a torrent of gritty ditties; while a staff volunteer (Brandon's a photographer, I swear) whipped up pitchers of Mango Lassies. And The 'Scrap Exchange girls' worked the door, the counter, and the floor, going "cha-CHING!", cha-CHING!","cha-CHING!".!.

By the end of the night, hundreds of friends, acquaintances and had-been-strangers had poured in, poured over the work, and partaken in, what was for me and my art, a monumental communal feast. And on top of it all, I got to place many of my preemies in hands that I love and trust, and in several instances, hands that fit them like gloves. What a privilage to be able to connect with people this way. Heading into the turbid seas of small business, I can confidently say that if I drown tomorrow, I am at least blessed today with the memory of (as Vito later put it) one authentically good Durham night.

Thanks to all of you who were there; in body and/or spirit.

Reclaimed-wood Builder and Reptire Collector Howard Staab enjoying magwi knot at the Scrap Exchange

Reclaimed-wood Builder and Reptire Collector Howard Staab enjoying magwi knot at the Scrap Exchange
I can't think of anything more rewarding for an artist than to see someone interacting with their artwork. Photo by Laxmi Haynes

Sammy and Dannette contemplate

Sammy and Dannette contemplate
Photograph by Laxmi Haynes

Cascade Colony of Knotlets

Cascade Colony of Knotlets
They would go with your jacket, would they not Claire?

Laxmi Resplendent

Laxmi Resplendent

Mavis In The Mist

Mavis In The Mist
Photograph by Laxmi Haynes

Tire Amazement

Tire Amazement
Photograph by Edie Cohn

Saturday, June 30, 2012


A few evenings ago, I made an Eno Fest supplies run to the home of my good friends Scott and Amy Durso. Scott and Amy live near Jordan Lake, and it was Amy who just last Fall alerted me to the bonanza of tires neatly stacked on the boat ramp, booty, as it turned out, from a bank blitz by Fran Di Giorno, with the Army Corps of Engineers driving the get away pantoon.


Scott and Amy have been nice enough to allow me temporary storage of these tires in their lovely forest, using a trailer as an all too fitting container for this pile ;)
While Scott and Amy tried to warn me about the substantial risk of copperheads in the pile, I have to confess that my real focus that evening was not the snakes I should have been watching for, nor the tires that I should have been loading. Instead, I was captivated by a tiny little fellow who seemed to have made my pile of tires his home, or at least his man-cave- what we call here a ‘fence racer’.

Well the fact that that day was Summer Solstice the longest day of the year, worked well in my favor, and well against his, because I hunted and harassed that poor fellow around and around and around those piles of tires well into the damp and dimming night. I think he would have agreed that it was probably the longest day of his year!

“Man, are you still followin me? What do you WANT FROM ME?!” He seemed to ask, as he eyed me accusingly.  I tried to explain that all I wanted to capture was his image, his jagged, scaly skin, and serpentine curves, played out elegantly against the scaley, curving surface of the tires. To capture him crouching in the cool cavernous curves of tire architecture. Didn’t he know, he was a coup de gras!

Finally, once I felt satifyied that I had sufficiently drained the evening of its last drops of sunlight, and distilled from this scene the best images that I was going to get with the equipment and patience that I had, I resumed my sorting and collecting of tires, careful as I could be, not to let these behemoths roll over on him.

At some point, I was relived to hear a plop in leaves behind me, and see him scamper over to the base of a small dogwood tree. While he seemed a little exasperated, as if to say “fine, have your stinking tires!” it was somewhat relieving to see him returning to this other, native home of his, whose winding grooves are perhaps a little bit softer, more ancient and more delicate, like him. But no, I can’t blame you buddy, I think tires are cool too!

(Two found object prints, from the same site, of very different sorts)


While I was collecting tires at Scott and Amy’s, I came across an interesting phenomenon, two, very different, Tire Prints.
Now, tire printing is not a completely new concept. Tire tracks in the sand etc.
But this is a kind that I have never seen, or rather, never paid attention too…
The first of these was I guess what I would call a Natural Callograph. In printmaking, to make a callograph, the artist uses a large mechanical wheel to press various textured objects into the ‘ground’ or layer of resist on the plate, before the impressions are etched. This can be a lot of fun!

In this case, ‘the ground’ was literally, the ground! A tire at the bottom of a stack of tires, had, pressed by the weight of those above it, left the tire’s radio-symmetric cupped impression in this surface.
The plants beneath had blanched from lack of luck and light, and a long earthworm had taken up residence there in.

Additionally, while removing this tire, which happened to be one with a lot of river water still left captured inside of it, some of this rusty, orange water seeped up, filling, and following the groove left by the tire, and creating a bright orange ring!

I wish that knew how to follow through, and create an actual print from this embellished surface. For the time being, this digital impression will have to do…

For some reason, this had a very specific ‘impression’ on me, some kind of primal Rorshac of Anima.

This was infact the impression of a tire and its wheel hub left on a sheet of plastic covering the tires to keep them from become a misquito nursery. Pine needles had piled up on the plastic, acting as the slow weight of a printing press, pressing it down on the tire. Condensation collecting under the tarp appearently aided in making this image.

"I'm an artist too!"
One more denizen of the Moncure Tire Mines

Speaking of prints, I worked my favorite shot from the series of the lizard into a poster.
I'll post it to my Speyedr Graphix & Illustration blog asap, and provide a link.

Thursday, June 14, 2012


            For this Summer’s collection, we have about 8 different litters of treadknot “cha-CHING!” coin purses, each born of several different tire pedigrees- a few tried and true studs in our bull pen, as well as a few new comer/old timers – (vintage specialty treats…)

            As a whole, this year’s collection features a typical and distinctive Reptire blend. Of course, the sharp-shooters/strikers of this ‘team’ are those which flaunt a New World “hip” urbanism, betrayed by edgy black rubber, and accented by flanking pin stripes of
reflective silver and chrome. These represent “the new breed”, and their force as vehicles to convey hyperactive speed and stealth are formidable.
            However, as older epicurians might enjoy, this urban lust evident in the collection is also tempered by a wholly different set of sensibilities. You might say recognize this as a reoccuring strand of Old World charm. This aura has enigmatically poked its head up like a wisened old turtle throughout the winding river of Reptire’s history, and more and more so these days…like the wisened uncle who shadows his nephew on his first date.
            While we are honoring family history, likewise, we will revisit two pedigree of coin purse that were first shown in the Reptire Designs’ very first batch of tredknot “cha-CHING!”s, when they made their debut exhibition at the Scrap Exchange in 2006.
            We will also visit some reoccurring strands of orientalism found in Reptire Designs’ forms and patterns.
            And finally, we will finish with a tire who’s charms are all American.

Well then,…

            To begin with, we have a Reptire classic- a richly glowing yellowy orange coinpurse, hailing from a fresh but aging gumwall. These coinpurses are generally petit, and absolutely shimmer like gold with a brass snap, chain and clasp.
I tend to think of these as the queens treasure, kidnapped by pirates as it were, its still the Queen’s as far as she’s concerned! Ironically, a pair of Cheng-Shin tires yielded six of these cute kittens! Thusly, a young ladies delight, but also a touch of the Samuri!, especially when the tread dictate a dioganal end cut..

            Another cute, but less successful batch was a set of three red treadknots from an Armadillo tire. This was somewhat of an experiment, as the last batch of Armadillo’s I tried about 8 years ago, at the opening of Reptire Designs, where kind of a dissapointment. Well, they are still red, and I still want them to work, and they still don’t want to work as tredknots, but fortunately, I am told by my friend Kat, they still do perform marvelously as tires!

Far more successful were a set of 4 coin purses made from a yellow BELL STREETSTER tire with a nice band of reflective silver running around the edge.

And EVEN MORE successful as another set of 3 black STREETSTER tires, which with their silver strip, edging along that angular pattern of black embossed rubber, I have to say look preTTy urban chic, and BADASS!

In a similarly modern and urban vein, next we have a tight collection of 3 jumbo tredknots, who have a broad and angular tread pattern, and sort of pale yellow skin along the sidewalls. This coolness is accented by a piercing silver snap and chain hardware, and completed by the word “METRO” embossed along the edge, making it the epitome of New York edge, mixed with European chic. In human terms- think a Russian teenager in New York City, wearing a formfitting tightknit synthetic black sweather, and sterling silver stud in his ear.

Next we have a group of 6 scaly, greeny, swampy coin purses, yielded from two Kenda tires (Japanese).  These also harken back to the original line of “cha-CHING’s” which debuted in their exhibition at the Scrap Exchange’s Green Gallery back in Septmember, 2006. In fact, I believe it was one of these that Director Ann Woodward placed a hold on herself! (though I’m not sure if she got one!). Set with a brass snap and hardware, this brood has a certain old mystery to it, somewhat reminiscent of a race of French-Japanese reptile pirates, hiding out in the murky swamps of the South East….

Our Very Close Runner Up Star Of The Show, excudes a similar old world charm. In fact, so much so is this richly distressed brown rubber, that this collection of six is fashioned from, that I am calling this line “Old World Book Leather”!.. Age and love for the traffic of the roads hands has stained this ancient and worn brown rubber deep and unremmitful hues of chestnut and mahogany. This woven book’s binding is a matrix of cross cut grooves on the diagonal, crested with a supine spine of angular backwards “S’s”.

And finally, the real Bell Of The Ball are these cute petit tredknots that were born of an old Shwinn tire. The sidewalls have a really sort of dusty, dreamy look to them, a sort of light dusting of pale lavender pixy dust, glazed over a buttery salmon that just melts in your eye!
Yum, deliscious.
Another part of this particular rubber’s charm is its perpetual plump and perk. The profile maintains its cup effortlessly, and its sure body responds/performs smoothly and effortlessly.
The farmer’s frisky daughter, a boy’s dream come true!

So that concludes Reptire Designs Summer 2012 “cha-CHING!” Collection.
In a nutshell- New World Stealth and Urbanism, matched by Old World Charm.
A perfect mating of the time testing with the time tested.

Churning Out some "cha-CHING!" Change Purses

I’ve been working on a fresh batch of tredknot “cha-CHING!” coin purses for the Festival for the Eno”, as I realized that I have recently sold out. It has been a while since I have worked with these, and it has really been a pleasure to dip back in, and work with the tredknot form in such a small, immediate and intimate way.

I guess the nicest part about working with these small coin purses is that I get to explore all of the myriad colors and textures inherent in retired bicycle tires. Of course, at the central axis of these tires, are the often intricate, rhythmic and geometric designs of the treads, which are an artform in them selves. These can be somewhat remenicent of a range of art traditions, from, say, Viennese Art Deco wood block prints, to Aztec pottery. These of course, form the bas note of the tire’s character, which determine the all over tone of a coin purses made from the tire.

However, this decorative border is itself bordered- flanked- by the two strips of rubber which form the tire’s side walls.
And these twin strips can be canvases of a different sort, windows as it were, in to the (most likely) arduous life that particular tire has lived on the road. Embossed into this surface are bits of text, indicating its dimensions, construction, brand name, and country of manufacture. Some of these ‘family’ surnames carry strange histories of their own, such as IRC (which I would venture to bet conceals the history of the India Rubber Company…).
This rubber often has various contents of natural latex rubber, mixed with various pigments to give it a variety of colors, from oranges and yellows, or yellowy greens to beiges to whites, to blacks, and back around to rich orangy browns.

And of course, these colors themselves are augmented by various forces of wear and distress, causing various fades and dapples along edges, which add heightended character and interest to the surface. Reflective strips along these edges is a recent addition to tire design, and can be a fun element as well.

So, you can see that each tire’s rubber has a lot of individual character. And this is makes it such a treat to work with these rubber characters, and help them shine within the format of the tredknot. Indeed it was the very variety of colorful characters (much like those found in any group of people), that inspired me to devine the format of the tredknot itself, as a means of showcasing this character, in it’s 3 interlocking faces.

Having worked with this form for over 8 years now, it is also a pleasure to watch my hands at work, because they know the form and its intricacies “like the backs of their hands”! and it is a pleasure to watch them doing the work somewhat on autopilot, and subsequently watching the small tredknots work their way into shape, which seems
A LOT more effortless than it used to! It feels a little more like fluffing pillows these days, as much as that image sort of disgusts me! The point is though, that the fingers know, and can make the material dance, like a charmed snake!


One of my goals for the Eno this year, (building on lessons that I learned the previous two years), was to develop better signage.
While this was meant mainly for my booth, it occurred to me that it would be nice to have some signage to accompany each piece, to help introduce it, and identify it both as an object, and part of a larger body of work, or product line.

So I have spent many a light night at what my day time boss calls my night job, crafting these hangtags.
It has been a rewarding process, to help these pieces tell their stories.

I am looking forward to seeing if and how people interact with them.  

One new hang tag that I particularly excited about is this folded hang tag for my tire lotus planters.
I had previously designed a smaller, business card sized hang-tag, which which works fine for my smaller works. But these have a sence of volumous grandure, and so it occured to me that their signage needed to be in better proportion.

Attaching the smaller ones was a challenge too, so I designed this tag to be able to perch on the edge/lip of the planter, or perhaps in its basin, as its display dictates.

While I am pleased with the further development of this hang tags functional design, as well as its surface design, front and back, what I enjoyed the most about redesigning this tag was taking the oppurtunity to add some serious descriptive text to its interior.

And to this task, I really didn't hold back, and I think I let some of the magic that I experience working with tires come through. What resides inside is basically a poem, narrating the tire's transformation from a forgotten 'vagabond' into a new being. I do hope that visitors will spend a little time with this, as I feel it is really a key into some of the alchemy that reptire designs engages in.

Below is a postcard sized flyer (front and back), that I designed to advertise Reptire's presence at the upcoming Festival for the Eno.


I had such a blast at the Milo Holt's Western Film Festival, that as soon it was done, all kinds of ideas for posters and logos and other graphics started popping up (and I have taken the time to sketch them out and develop them to a limited extent- trying to keep from getting to carried away!) (It is too early to get too involved with, or discuss these, and who knows if they will even be appropriate for their plans next year.

However, my hope is to be a sponsor of the event next year 
(perhaps in a trade for graphics, or just an outright donation). 

Either way, there was something in the event that I identified with (or at least wanted to identify with), and I was able to find some tenuous, fantastical connection between this celebration of the wild west, and Reptire Designs.
Exactly what that is, I am still trying to put my finger on...

However, if you, or someone one you know, might also find yourself intuitively identifying with some of the qualities celebrated in this festival of Wild Western Cowboy Movies and Culture, perhaps you might also consider becoming a sponsor yourself. This might be a colorful and memorable way to advertize your business, while providing meaningful support to  a very significant cultural celebration here in Siler City, and honor the memory of legendary film enthusiast, pioneer and community organizer, Milo Holt.

If this oppurtunity interests you, and you are interested in learning more, please contact me at traviscohn@gmail.com, and I will gladly put you in touch with the organizers.


Holdjyer Horses! Comin' right around th' bend, Pardner! ;)


The next turtle adventure didn’t quite go as planned.
I saw a snapper trying to cross road.
By the time I doubled back, hit.
Lifted him off, draped neck, layed to rest.
Went back to check on him.
Went back, strewn about.
Didn’t feel so bad, Got to work
Tough skin, hard to cut.
Plastron, sharp edges of sternum
Nicked finger on edge..
uh oh..
Up to elbows in rotten snapping turtle
Stuck pieces in bag, and drove to Lowes, where I proceded to wash hands 13 times.
Hoped for the best and forgot about it…
A couple days later, started to puff and teer..
Uh oh…
In middle of project, not thinking about it. By the time I was ready for bed that night at midnight, my finger was swollen like a sausage.

Too tired to deal with it by that time, so went to sleep for a little bit.
Woke about about 3 am, hand throbbing, knew I had to act.
Looked at hand, redness of infection had spread up to writst.
Drove to ER.
Tried in morning, sliding scale, but closed at 1pm.
Drove to Urgent Care in Pittsboro at 3.
Infection had spread all the way up my arm and into my arm pit, on way to my heart!
Treated with Antibiotics on IV at Pittsboro Urgent Care. Excellent Staff.

So, some gratitude he showed me, from trying to save his neck.
Just like a snapping turtle, bit me from the grave!


WARNING: this post involves a story about and picture of a deceased turtle. Not for the squeemish.

Turtle Contemplating The Edge

            Sadly, of course, not all turtles make it across our roads and highways. In fact many do not.
            Earlier this year, one evening I pulled a hulking mother yellow bellied slider off of Highway 64, and laid her in some marshy grasses in a wash down below the highway banks. I could tell that she had just been hit- her carapice was crushed on the front end above her head.

            I left her there, in a peaceful spot, but her memory stuck with me for several days after that…and finally, on the way home one day, I decided to go pay her another visit. She was still there, and the carrion beetles and flies had really done an impressive job of cleaning out the insides of her shell. But quite to my surprise, what was left by the efficient cleaners was a cache of eggs, about 11 of them, sitting out like jewels in an open treasure chest.

It seemed that their tough leathery skin was to thick for the maggots to penetrate (though sure enough they were collected on the outside). So this was this mama turtle’s secret, her interrupted mission, her briefcase of genetic documents, bundled in their leathery skins. So tragic.
I didn’t really want to get tied up in the lives of 11 turtles, but something in me did strongly want to clean those maggots off of those eggs. And so I reached in, and wiped each one clean. Now what to do?

            Well, I placed them in a frito’s bag laying nearby, and headed into town to try to find some answers.

Boyscout leader was very helpful, looked on his iphone.
Mom and Linda’s son, said bury them in sand.

So that’s what we did...


            Wow, well, appearently birds aren’t the only things that move by clockwork (please see last post about studio wrens). Because this spring has seen their cousin reptiles crawling out of the woodwork, across highways left and right, and even falling out of the trees!

Digging around in the gardens at the Training Center, I found a wee baby snapper!
Nary can I drive to work, with out coming across at least one, if not two turtles trying to cross the road.

And while working at Leif Diamont's beautiful garden in the wood, Janice and Leif and I were strartled by a branchy crash. Low and behold, we saw a stunned blacksnake oozing woozy from his fall, from 20 feet up in a tree. I don't know how you knock a snake off a limb, but according to momma blue bird, there's not much to it!

There really does seem to be some strong bioligical mechanisms at work. For just the other day, I saw two freshly killed black snakes in the road. And of course a few years ago I had a 3-blacksnake day, beginning with a rescue at the library, then an encounter on my 2nd story front porch, which oozed into and through my studio, and then tragically, finding (presumably), the same lost snake dead on the road nearby.

          I have really developed an eye for spotting turtles especially. A few weeks ago, I pulled a grapefruit-sized snapper off of the road. And then just a few miles further, while rounding a curving country road, on the way to the Training Center, just a little speck caught my eye. That brown spot was not much bigger than a silver dollar (a tic on the road), but some sense in my brain was able to discern that little spot on the road was infact an exquisite little fingersandwhich of intelligent turtle.
SCREECH!!!!...(I don’t bother to turn around any more). I flicked him up, and sure enough, out he came, racing and clawing his way over the treadmill of my fleshy hands.
He is a real determined little bastard this one! He never stops trying to get on! I think I’ll call him “Huey”.
            Bill, the owner’s daughter Chelsea, who is very interested in nature, agreed to turtle sit for me, while I get my tank set up. They did a great job at creating a habitat for the little guy, and finding food that he likes. Eventually, maybe we will put him in the pond there at the training Center, since that seems like a moderately safe and natural habitat for him.

In the mean time, while the family is on vacation, little Horacio Alexander is staying with Uncle Travis in Siler City.


Well, the wrens blew in for another visit this year, this time, mercifully shorter than last!
Could it be that the ‘art’ and ‘science’ of child rearing has been refined? Had they been reading Dr. Spock? I’m guessing that it had more to do with this early and gentle Spring…

Once again, the parents have been yipping and pipping around the studio, leaving their droppings here and there. While the chatter can be a little bit grating, and the droppings are maybe not helping with my studio cleaning efforts,  it IS WELL worth enduring for a month or two, for the pleasure of seeing these cagey little beings hopping and flitting about. And perhaps indeed there is some ego involved, cause these little bastards LOVE my tire sculpture! And seeing them perched so adroitly on the curving bow of a ‘tire limb’ brings me a certain aesthetic satisfaction, that really would be hard to top!

            Furthermore, this year, they have become quite a bit more comfortable with me, and so, for better worse, I found them hopping around literally every surface in my studio, exploring, or foraging, I really wasn’t sure.
            The other day, I caught taking a dust bath in the soil in a house plant. They were really making them selves at home! Thankfully, its nice to know that even Wrens rest at night!

            Well, they also get up early. One morning I awoke to quite a racket of squaking, and peeping. No doubt, as it is for all parents on graduation day, it is a bitter sweet mix of pride and alarm, when your bushy browed pups sail off into the wide wild world. In this case, for a day, that wide wild world was my studio, and these parents were making quite a racket, coaching them, breathing over their shoulders, and telling me to get the fuck outta here!

            Somewhat sheepishly, but looking back, perhaps somewhat spitefully, I stumbled to the kitchen area, and began working on my own breakfast- frying a few eggs. Actually, I really was feeling pretty guilty about this, considering all of the trauma that everyone was going through around me. What a terrible way to welcome these creatures into the world, by cooking up bird embryos. Or maybe that was my graduation present to them- “Well, you made it through egghood with out ending up an omelette, congradulations kid.”
             Well, my guilt was soon laid to rest after breadkfeast when turned around I found the mom or  dad perched on my spatula, picking bits of fried eggs off to fly over to his little runts! I guess, as they say, protein is protein in the animal world!

            Interestingly, in the course of trying to photograph these darting birds, I learned something about their ‘habits’, that made the task of capturing them on film just a little bit easier. And that was that the parents, (similarly to airplanes!), working a quite regular routine pattern around my studio space. And thus, trying to get a certain shot of a wren perched apon a certain mound of tires, I merely had to wait for the wren to make its way around this circuit around the room, until eventually it would return to lite briefly before my tripod, before racing off again. Some how, this made a certain kind of sense, that in their seemingly chaotic, jittery movement, there was in fact a grander scheme, with an efficiency of clockwork..

            Of course, the babies were adorable. At one point, I found three of them hiding out in the bowl of a tire in my studio trash can!

            Well, fortunately, they all found their way out of my studio, and have left me some piece to work in (unlike last year, which had this all taking place up to the 11th hour of Eno preparations!) I guess they are out there somewhere, maybe exploring the abandoned building of Siler City, or the woods out behind the tracks, or maybe on a carribian cruise!
Hopefully they are chatting up some cute potential boyfriends and girlfriends, and perhaps they will be back next year, to follow in the footsteps of their parents).


The Changes Show- A Farewell to Hotel Hadley Studios

Friday April 20th, 2012
     An Invitational Grand Finale Exhibition 
to Celebrate the Closing Of Hotel Hadley Studio.

            It was a real honor to be included in this show exploring the pertinent theme of "Change" with other notable Artists in the greater Siler City area. 

       While I struggled to find the right piece and gesture to commemorate this closing, eventually I settled on a piece that I at least knew that the Artists, Founders, Managers and Curators of Hotel Hadley Studios Gallery- Sarah Kuhn and Drucilla Pettibone would enjoy on a personal/aesthetic level. This piece I believe has a bit of both of them, and their energies in it.

            It is also an interesting synthesis of old and new- the motorcycle tire with the antique trim, which I think speaks well to the very special space that these two artists created in this historic and antiquated hotel in downtown Siler City.

            Hotel Hadley Studios has been a trail blazer in pushing the envelope in the Siler City, and the wider Chatham County Arts scenes. In the Siler City 3rd Friday Gallery scene, they acted both a destination for folks visiting from surrounding areas, and simultaneously, as an anchor point for the freakier folks in Siler City, as well an open space where more and less traditional folks came to visit, explore new art and ideas, and all intermingled therein. And as such, the presence and space that these artists provided to the curious and adventuresome people of this area will be sorely missed by many.