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I am in love with the swamp. The city is so different, that it is a challenge to reconcile that they might inhabit the same reality. In drawing, I try to take people to a place where they never go—or hardly ever get to go. But then it seems this is the purpose of a lot of art, right? I feel like the world in which the art gallery and museum people exist contrasts heavily with the outside world. I grew up on the Mississippi River and have had about a dozen jobs since I left there that have influenced my drawings.
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Neil Whitacre
I am in love with the swamp. The city is so different, that it is a challenge to reconcile that they might inhabit the same reality.
In drawing, I try to take people to a place where they never go—or hardly ever get to go. But then it seems this is the purpose of a lot of art, right? I feel like the world in which the art gallery and museum people exist contrasts heavily with the outside world.
I grew up on the Mississippi River and have had about a dozen jobs since I left there that have influenced my drawings. I detassled corn, bailed hay, worked at a hardware store, washed dishes, worked in a popcorn factory, drove a cheesecake delivery truck, cooked Chinese food, tended bar, made coffee, cleaned hospital rooms, loaded UPS trucks, land surveyed, moved kegs, lifeguarded and gave guided trips by kayak on a jungle river in the Everglades. Most recently, I worked a smattering of part-time jobs and as an art therapist in a hospital in New York City.
I struggle with drawing as an addiction that I can’t seem to quite let go of.
Often, I need to go on long runs or hikes to get out energy. My wife Naomi continues to be very supportive even though making art and a living can be hard on both of us at times. I am aware of how few people are able to invest time in any form of art and I know it is a privilege to be able to make my drawings. The creation of art does not come easily to the working class.
I am interested in the zones where I see humans buck up against nature. An ancient, wrecked speedboat hull on the shore of Jamaica Bay by JFK. A junked trailer at the edge of the woods. Waves undercutting and disintegrating a wooden seawall in Gowanus, Brooklyn. A soggy couch, jammed in the rapids.
My wanderings include: fishing, cabins, pancakes, liquor, the Western Pacific, down-and-out people, canals, logs, trees, plants, organic gardening, alligators, Oregon, ocean currents, tides, huts, swamps, Mid-East politics, luxury, reptiles, religions, cakes, leisure, sharks, Australia, octopuses, litter and debris, the ocean floor, cooking, zombies, moss, hot peppers, pollution, beaches, curries, camping, monsters, environment.
I am represented by Richard Heller Gallery in LA and have been very lucky to have also shown in NYC, Miami, Chicago, France, Italy, Canada, Japan and Iowa.
