Rock Car Kid

Found rock appeared to be painted like a cartoonish car by a child, television, security camera, tape.
10″h 24″w 12″d
2025

When I was little, I wanted to be a movie star. I remember looking at all the famous people at the time in movies and on TV, and thinking to myself, “Its gonna be so weird to watch all these people get older.” 

I used to have a lot of funny thoughts like that, like being around 3 years old and noticing the little pink bit of flesh in the corner of my eyes, and thinking that I must have gone into a different reality where people have these pink fleshy things in their eyes. Weird. 

When I was around 4 I for sure thought I could fly, and I was so confused when I couldn’t do it in my room anymore, trying to push my little body up into the air and, nothing. I also was certain that in my last life, I was a guitar player in New Orleans who lived in a little apartment above a bar. “I died of a drug overdose,” I told my concerned mother, in my little kid voice. 

The first time I remember seeing my dad cry was when I was 8 years old, when Stevie Ray Vaughn died. The famous rock and roll guitarist. I remember thinking how interesting it was that he’d so deeply feel the loss of someone he had never met, simply because he loved his music. I was too young to feel that way about much of anything besides my family. I sometimes wonder how much of an impact that had on me in becoming an artist. To be a creator of things, to make my dad love me.