Brian Strout, 42, lives in a condo he rents from a lady named
Liz, with a y, on the East Side of Austin, Texas. He is not from
here; he is new here. Named after his father’s estranged best
friend and saddled with a meaningless middle name, he is a New
Englander who likes his coffee sweetened, and drinks tiki'd.
Brian's makes art, writes shorts pieces akin to poetry, makes
music, designs shirts, organizes the occasional event, and is
making a show of sorts.
Brian has always had a complicated relationship with art as a
vehicle for capitalism, and instead prefers to seek community
and understanding. Brian is therefor, poor.
Burn pallet wood, resin, clay, a small roott, an antique candle holder, candles, and a live plant inside of a mounted wooden pot. - Built to show the inevitable affects of internal distress.
Wood, stone, plaster, paint paper, landscaping, and miniatures. - An homage to the sad journey of a friend, and the how time can become nonlinear in a moment.
coming
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This door needs a key