Ex-graffiti artist Heidi Elise Wirz combines a punk rock aesthetic and a talent for dumpster diving to give us a look into the dark imagery of childhood.
Ever have the dream of writing a letter to one of your favorite musicians and having them write back to you? How about writing them a letter, asking them if they’d like for you to make them posters? And then step it up a notch — ever dream of them getting back in touch and offering you a full time job? Probably not, because it sounds awfully far fetched. And certainly not if you’re talking about a band as big as Pearl Jam. But in 1999, a young Brad Klausen — fresh out of school for graphic design — offered his services as an artist, and they offered him a job.
Don’t let that Volkswagen parked in front of the Christopher Henry gallery in New York City fool you. Yes, it’s covered in colorful crochet from hood to bumper. Yes, it’s meant to entice you to check out the rest of the exhibit by Olek, a Polish artist with a penchant for yarn bombing just about anything that’s stationary. But this is not your granny’s crochet.
Don’t cast Melinda Gebbie as one of the wayward characters depicted in The Lost Girls, the three-volume, 30-chapter masterpiece of erotic fiction she illustrated and coauthored with long-time love Alan Moore. Sure, she’s had her fair share of weird exploits and random affairs — she was making feminist comics in 1973 in San Francisco, tuning in and dropping out.
Surrounded by enormous klieg lights, the pint-sized artist and illustrator holds court discussing the release of her first book, Dr. Sketchy’s Official Rainy Day Colouring Book, a romp through the whimsical world of cabaret life drawing courtesy of her bimonthly Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School sketching salon.