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Copyright 2023 Inkular Gallery Ltd.
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INKULAR: PO BOX 18242 Roanoke VA 24014
Inkular: Photographed by Inkular 2023
Front Cover: “Untitled Head” by Inkular
Inside Cover: Inkular Artist
Table of Contents: Page 3
Introduction: Page 4 & 6
“Mother” : Page 5
INKULAR Q & A: Page 7
“Colorful Tears” : Page 8
“Untitled”: Page 9
“Birdsong”: Page 10
Story About Storytelling: Pages 11-13
“Table”: Page 14
“Two Fish”: Page 15
“King Fish”: Page 16
“Brick Wall”: Page 17
CARTOONS: “1977 Nissan Skyline 1800 GL” : Page 18
ART = PEACE: Inside Back Cover
Back Cover
“Art has always been an important part of my life, and I can’t remember a time in my life when it wasn’t.” Coming from a society that preached the importance of conformity, being different was somehow bad or weird. For me, there was always internal tension between the normal guy, who fit in socially and the weird artist, however the weird was suppressed for my most of my life. Art has led me through darkness, into the light, and across a sea of color. When I am or feel alone or lonely, art is my friend. Silent, yet receptive and thoughtful of my needs. Some of my art is designed for a specific area or color scheme and mostly abstract, however only a small percentage and usually by my art comes from what’s in my head and the ripple n uncharted course until something emerges. Continue on Page 6
Continued
From Page
As I entered my pre-teen years, life was changing rapidly, and I was exposed to new art, music, ideas and culture. By my midteens, my curiousity was at an all time high and life was one giant crazy experiment.
In my high school years, I was drawing with pencil and pens on regular paper. Hardly professional grade pen/ink/paper for a longlasting quality piece, but one learns. My work was decent, but my head wasn’t where it needed to be to get to a true creative space to expand the depth of my more technical style of drawing. Like many, I had zero clue where I wanted my art to go, yet it was already leaning toward psychedelic like images.
In my Junior year of high school, I started fresh in a large public high school and met the new art teacher, Mr. Nichols. He was kind and used that kindness to help his students excel, however, if someone tested his kindness, he or she learned quickly, foolishness was not accepted. He allowed me to open up as many new horizons I could find, artistically, and taught me much about life. Now we always hug when we see each other and have for years. Mr. Fletcher Nichols is my dear friend.
Let’s be honest, I was groomed to be a lawyer and never an artist. Although my parents appreciatated fine art and artists, that was not the path I was to take. There were times I had other titles, yet when I neglected my art, I became miserable and restless. My one college art class was a negative experience and I was asked to leave and not return. Soon, art was put on hold as I decended into the job world. More Later. Fast Forward to 2023 and Beyond.
The answer to this question is forever expanding and always seeking more. The first answer that comes to mind is that I love art when it overwhelms my emotions and I gladly or reluctantly give up my power of emotional containment. Art that makes tears flow uncontrolably, gives sudden joy, or makes me pause to think is always appreciated. New techniques, styles or perspectives usually arouse my curiosity.
Art, schmart. In the evening, I enjoy watching Bob Ross reruns because, paired with Ambien, it helps me get to sleep. Plus, he has nice hair. Once the art teacher from high school took us on a trip to the local art museum but was fired after the administration heard about the nekkid paintings. I like clown portraits. Do you have a light?
Garfunkel.
Often I was the the “quiet guy” who listened more than spoke, yet in the right environment and around comfortable people, I was known to have a good sense of humor and plenty of crazy experiences to share. Let’s face it, most good stories happen after 10 years of age and depending on one’s maturity or lack there of, new stories can be created for a lifetime. I fall into that category.
In my early to mid-teens, alcohol helped my social abilities and gave me some needed looseness and poor judgement to create story worthy stories. I became interested in new art, music, books, and cultures outside of Southwest Virginia.
Overindulgence and near insanity took hold and I was starting to create memorable stories for later in life. Stories are often not funny when they are happening.
Continued from Page 11
Before each story I tell on stage, I get the same anxious feeling that I get only before participating in a storytelling event. A positive reaction from the audience feeds the fire of a good story and makes the experience crackle with energy. It is both fun and rewarding to have listeners approach me after getting off stage and tell me why he/she enjoyed the story and why.
With all of today’s technology coupled with rapid, yet sketchy news sources, we communicate less than ever, and real stories are more important than ever. Often storytelling is therapy for the teller and by telling the story, someone in the audience may relate to something that was said and have a story of their own. Too many people are burdened by a lack of honest conversation and feedback, coupled with a fear of trusting the listener. Never once, have I seen someone get heckled at a storytelling event. Most people have told me that there was no way in hell they were getting on stage and telling a story. It takes a certain kind of magic at times to pull off a fluid presentation.
My stories are 95% humorous and fall into multiple categories, however, gravitate toward Concert and Music Festival Antics, Travelling, Jobs, Schools and all the potential situations one faces on an extended irresponsible drug and alcohol fueled romp around the country and world. Of course, there are many more topics and sub-topics to discuss, and most will come out in my writing and storytelling. Let’s face it, bad judgement equals great stories. Great stories equal life. As a sober adult, I can reflect on the craziness that most never knew.
Hollerin’ at FloydFest: Photographer(?)Continued from Page 12
As stated, I was exceptionally shy, coupled with bad vision, which meant I sat in the front row of class and never ever said a word. Although I had attended smaller schools with smaller classes most of my life, in Eleventh grade that all rapidly changed when I enrolled in the local public school. It was huge.
When I first walked into the school to find my homeroom room the first day, my anxiety hit the roof. Sweating bullets while wading through the hallway, hyperventilation and electrical prickles in my feet and stomach was all I felt and could really comprehend.
On the first week of school, all students were assigned a paper entitled, “What It Means To Be An American Citizen”. It was due the following Monday. On Sunday evening, I remembered the paper due on Monday and wrote a quick one-page paper and turned it in the next morning. On Thursday, there was an announcement over the intercom stating that the student with the best paper in each grade had to read the document in from of the entire school. (0ver 2000)
Needless to say, I shat bricks when I heard my name announced for the 11th Grade “Winner”. Now it was time to plan what sickness I was going to have that day.
A couple of days before the big day, I told my parents to get there early to get a good seat. After running to the guidance counselor’s office and calling home, (no one answered) I quickly drove home and mixed two Vodka & Tonics, slammed them, smoked a small doobie and jetted back to school. Made it just in time to go backstage and wait for the two students from the 9th and 10th grades to go first. I walked up with my paper in hand and killed it. The reading was as fluid and perfect as a professional orator. Confidence went up 1000%.
Fast forward thirty years or so…Lee Hunsaker developed a storytelling group in Roanoke Virginia called The Hoot & Holler (Storytelling Group). Each event has a theme and has upwards of eight storytellers who may have done it before and many who are first time storytellers. Each person applies to tell a story, goes through a vetting process and, if chosen, meets with other storytellers to practice and meet before the big show. Currently I have spoken at 12 or so events, all nerve wracking and extremely satisfying. The Hoot & Holler Series sells out quickly every time an event goes on sale. People love to hear real life stories told a few feet from their seat. It is an intimate view into the hearts and souls of people you may never meet otherwise. It is a beautiful experience for one and all.
1977 Nissan Skyline 1800GL Sporty Deluxe Extra
