I was born in California but that isn’t really important because I don’t claim to have any California culture. Instead, I was raised on a farm in Ohio and describe my culture in what I call the “Bacon Grease Theory of Life”. The Bacon Grease Theory of Life can be simplified to a green bean analogy. Green beans as I knew them were only eaten after being picked, washed, de-stringed, broken into sections and boiled with bacon grease and salt until limp. They are very tasty. At my mother’s wedding earlier this year there appeared a new kind of green bean dish. This probably happened because we don’t live in Ohio anymore. These green beans were briefly boiled with rosemary and garlic and were very crisp. Initially I thought the crispness was a mistake, but as you probably know it wasn’t. I ate them anyway and they were also very tasty. I feel enriched in my life experience to now have two green bean dishes to choose from.

It is true of almost everyone who lives in the Ohio Valley that bacon grease is a key ingredient of the cuisine. I had never seen sushi in person, nor had my palate been refined with foods such as shrimp, feta cheese, mango, pita bread, hummus, tofu, or martinis. We grew large vegetable gardens, and ate a number of friendly animals. One memory is of a five-legged cow named Five Legged Rusty. Five Legged Rusty made for countless delicious meals and the running joke was, “I would like a five-egged Rusty omelet”. A good spoon of bacon grease in a hot frying pan is the standard way to begin preparing a five-egged Rusty omelet. His fifth leg wasn’t actually functional, just memorable.

My family is hilarious. You would probably think so too. While I had never been to a big city, never seen a play performed by adults, never listened to classical music, and can eat an entire meal with a single fork, I do know what it’s like to sit in a room full of people speaking in tongues. This usually happens at family reunion after a huge breakfast that consists of biscuits brushed with bacon grease, potatoes fried in bacon grease, eggs scrambled in a pan coated with bacon grease, and bacon. I theorize that the bacon grease helps to lubricate whatever biomechanics are needed to speak in tongues. To be fair, not all of my family members speak in tongues, wear long skirts, and refuse to shave their legs. The rest of us prefer Target to Wal-Mart and enjoy the a cappella portion of the family gatherings more than the spiritual possession hour. I was 26 when I learned that a cappella was called a cappella.

I’ve found that there is no escaping the clearly defined dichotomies that make up my experiences and personality. The Wal-Mart sect of my family versus the Target side (the reserved versus the expressive), and my employment history as a soldier, a private investigator, and armed security for sickeningly rick folks versus my passion as an art worker (the enforcer verses the anarchist). Dichotomies are usually funny and I seek them out. Did you know that Darth Vader, the epitome of evil and antithesis of the Force, has been inducted into the Mr. Potato Head family? I believe that the creator of Darth Tater should be given a solo show, Outsider Art or not. I wonder if his father can speak in tongues and if this sends his mother into hysterical laughing fits. Neither is wrong, in fact they reinforce each other. They’re likely to be divorced and yet they probably both enjoy Darth Tater.

Update: I've managed to acquire an MFA which (for me) means that I A) went somewhere "far away" to learn more about art, B) met and really got to know an insane variety of very good people who make stuff and think about stuff, and C) got to see snow again. Additionally, I (with minimal assistance) created a couple of human beings and, to date, have changed approximately 6,120 diapers. I have become an actual bygawd photographer and actual bygawd baker because, at night, when I'm exhausted but finally alone I have to learn how to MAKE SOMETHING NEW. The next artwork that I make just might be edible, but may or may not contain bacon grease.