I met absurdity out West and now he’s a friend of mine. I stole that,

actually, from the title of a book published by an artist we discovered at a flea market outside Santa Fe. What’s absurd is that Kelly Moore isn’t as well known as Thornton Dial or Howard Finster. He’s so outside art that he actually makes art outside – almost year round, in his Tesuque Flea Market “stall.” He bungie-cords this three-sided gallery closed during the week, more to keep out the snow or desert summer heat than thieves.

If it was just the wack-factor, I probably wouldn’t be writing a blog about this guy. We have plenty of crazy right here in Beaufort, South Carolina. But Kelly Moore’s work stopped me cold and it was 97 degrees out at the time with forest fires burning on two sides. He was adding the finishing touches to an unframed canvass in the one triangle of shade inside his flea market stall, listening to Sixto Rodriguez on a battery-powered CD player.

“You ever hear this guy?” said the painter. “He blows my mind.” I had, actually, just a few days earlier when I

watched “Searching for Sugarman.” Rodriguez gives away the money he earns — now that he’s been rediscovered. Kelly Moore gave me a copy of his book of paintings and poems.

He writes with even less punctuation and spell check that Word autocorrects for – stream of consciousness from a mind determined to swim against the stream. Describing his painting is more difficult. There’s something so personal, and gripping about the unrestrained figures, dreams and animals he paints that it’s impossible to art-speak it away. He tries, mostly in self-deprecating quips about failure and rejection.

He wanted me to be sure to mention his body odor and his three-photo-only policy for not sucking away his soul. He scuffed the dust off a metal sewer cover that a friend sent him from New Orleans after the hurricane – in case I needed a portal to get the hell away from him in a hurry. It was not-so-subtle satire from a man rebuffed for not being native enough, primitive enough, awe-struck-by-art-schools enough for the outsider art word to champion.

So I will, for what it’s worth. I’m not an art scholar but I’ve been lucky enough to look at art around the world. With Kelly’s work, I didn’t even have to leave this country to be transported. It lifted me out of the representational, the familiar, the pretty and took me on darker dreams to wilder places. Great art is like that. It’s a connection that transcends language or culture, whether you live in a camper or a castle or paint in a studio or a shed in the desert.

Above is from Teresa Bruce Books Blog, Right Brain Safari.

I hope you enjoy my tribute piece today and I’ll see you tomorrow on Day 347!  I’m definitely buying his book!  And you should too!

Best,

Linda