Johnny Blastoff: The Impossible Pose
September 9–23, 2018
A friend of mine has a few large artworks on paper made by his grandfather, Stanley (not sure of his last name). They’re really wild, some sample photos are attached below. I can’t remember all the details my friend told me, and it seems like a lot of the facts are fuzzy to him, too. I believe the basic story is that he was estranged from my friend’s mother and the rest of their family, and when he died my friend’s mom went through his stuff and found these drawings along with a book he had written that, tragically, she threw away. I think he was a dockworker?
I never got to know my grandfather. But I met him once. He gave me a harmonica. His name was Stanley. Stanley passed away in 2001. Shortly after, these drawings were mailed to us in a large cardboard tube. There was no information about them. The work was shown to me but I was too young. As a teen, I found them by accident. They were tucked away in the basement. I remember precisely the moment I opened the panties. It took me a while to understand Stanley’s art but when I did he became a role model. I grew a large mustache. I searched for clues in the kitty cat scratches that run up and down Sunday’s tights. It might be the first public appearance of this work. I hope this makes his rulers smile.