An Explanation

An Introduction, or My Dad, Accidental Outsider Artist

Where to begin? To the outside world, I think my dad comes across as a pretty straight-laced guy. He certainly looks very clean cut. He always worked very hard to take care of us. He’d leave in the morning in his suits with his loud business shoes and his briefcase, smelling of aftershave. He put in long hours rather far from home and so my friends saw very little of him. When he was around, he was definitely not mr. chatty. Usually he was in his room “taking a lie down”, out for a run or maybe at the gym “pumping some iron”, or most likely, in his home office “working on a report”. I’m sure that some of the time he really was reviewing blueprints and whatnot, but I’m also sure that a good portion of that time was spent checking aol celebrity gossip and working on, hmm what to call them, his “pieces”.
For years now I’ve been receiving emails from my father with photographs (aka “jpegs”) and scanned collages attached. He used to send them to his brother via fax back in the day when his work was mostly done using a Xerox machine until his brother told him he had to stop because the fax machine was in a public part of his office and his coworkers did not appreciate my dad’s “sense of humor”. Aside from me and the occasional other recipient, I think my dad creates these things purely for his own amusement. Most of them never even get documented. He just creates these little scenes and then dismantles them and makes new ones resulting in something that looks like a shrine to small plastic happy meal style toys or the wall of newspaper clippings that the dude in a Beautiful Mind amassed (OK, not nearly that bad).

When he does document and send things my way, they usually come with little to no explanation, save maybe a caption in the subject line. At this point I’ve amassed such a collection of these sometimes sweet, more often slightly disturbing photos that I decided I should share them. Along the way I’ll probably include some of my dad’s “catch phrases” (if you can call them that) and other anecdotes that help give a little insight into what life with my dad is like. So, here we go.

p.s. All images have titles that were sent to me, with my dad’s own take on capitalization and spelling.


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