I recently completed the first piece of artwork that I’ve pursued in the last two years. A whirlwind of new natural landscapes and built environments, along with an overwhelming sense of smallness and transience, has meant I’ve not been motivated to record my take. Soaring skyscrapers and stretching skies, rugged geology and gritty architecture — views that have been experienced, admired and captured by countless others. That endless question: what do I have to add? nagged on a scale much larger than my sketchpad.
Then I met Bang Bang. It was love at first sight, and I’ve often mused on writing about them here. The sense of community and the sensory overload of baking butter and steamed-up windows evoke so easily metaphor and poetry. But again, what might I add to the chorus of praise that sings about them constantly, emphatically — no less, as one who’s never so much as stolen a bite of a single pie?
Ultimately, I never wrote because it felt too personal, scribing a note to a dear friend and then posting it out and about in the world. Because I developed true friendships with the crew behind the counter, and because they — Michael, Dave, Megan; Steve, Jen and Jack — already answered that question of “what does it matter?”.
And so, I made them this painting.