Well the FROGSHWAY is moving forward…I’ve handed out so many issues in the last few weeks.  If you are INTERESTED in a T-SHIRT…txt or call me at 404.784.8560 and I’ll get you set up.  XOXO Allen

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Well today was an INCREDIBLE day in the world of FROGSHWAY-ness.  The #1 issue of the Chronicles of FrogShway is now OFFICIALLY stocked at two primo locations for INDIE comic books in the ATLANTA area.

Oxford Comics and Games

and

Criminal Records

If you’re a FAN of the SHWAY we’d love for you to GO in and PICK up a copy.  They retail for $1 and you’d be supporting a MAJOR movement.

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Historic Buford Hall

It was beautiful amber orange-colored Sunday afternoon as I told my friend Joe I was skipping Church.  I’ll find out how many object to that behavior next Wednesday night I suppose.  I was comforting to hear Joe say, “I’m not afraid to miss a Sunday here or there.”  REV coffee was part of my morning ritual as I visited my favorite Baristas CindyP and JessicaP for a cup of locally roasted Brazilian bean.  I anticipated an 11am meeting with my artist friend Ilia, like all to often, I found myself deep into a 27-minute conversation with a new REV regular named Jack.  We talked deeply into the subject of parenting and art.  His teenaged sons are budding musicians of the drum and guitar flavor and there was a gentle excitement as Jack proclaimed how into their music he was.  He really connected with what they were doing, as no doubt their expression grew out of his deep love for the old school rock and roll tunes.  Not only that, Jack loves the INDIE radio stations too, so we became friends quickly.  It didn’t hurt that he had a copy of Oswald Chambers on the table too and wasn’t shy to acknowledge that the creativity that his children possessed came mysteriously from God alone.  What a day I thought, I’d never have that conversation inside the plain colored walls of a traditional aging southern Baptist church.  Ya know what, Jack said he’d tried all the sports activities and they just didn’t take.  It was music and art that were knitted deeply in the inter-weavings of these young men’s souls.

Inside the Slotin Art Auction

Ilia and I scurried off to a wide spot in the road in Buford, GA, a place to this day I’ve never been to on purpose, so I’m thankful to Steve and Amy Slotin for drawing me out of my routine in Smyrna, GA.  It’s quite amazing that their auction magazine is published and distributed for free; an obvious collectable value in itself.  You can tell the serious art collectors at an auction easily. They are the most interesting characters in their creative fashion.  I spoke to a couple from Scottsdale, AZ and asked how they arrived at the auction and what art they were interested in.  American Indian works were their flavor, but also drawn to the curious prayers for hunters featuring a dead hunter on a painted on section of tin.  We exchanged pleasantries and they moved up to the front row enjoying all of the auction experience and keeping an eye on the things that might be added to their collection.  These two were no slackers to the folk art scene as they had personally visited many notable artists and purchased directly from them complete with the stories of moonshine, alcohol and craziness.

There’s something about folk art that I find so compelling and I’m sure you will too once you’ve walked into the world of it.  I chatted with regional art collector Barry Huffman from Hickory, North Carolina as she shared excitement of a purchase work by Joe McFall from the late Howard Campbell collection.  She proclaimed, “This is the perfect place to get Folk Art, the entire experience is authentic to the work itself.”  I’m so thankful to Ilia for his outgoing personality and introducing me to such interesting museum donors; he’s a perfect partner in crime. Hopefully, we’ll be on the road to a place between Hickory and Ashville to learn more about this art of making museums.

We continued to watch the bidding and the excellent auctionioneering workmanship of veteran Larry Troutman of the Atlanta Auction Company.  Larry is good no doubt and it does take a small army of people to carry out such a feet of organizing, moving, presenting and packaging a small city of American prized-cultural-artifacts.

Articles auctioned off on Sunday

As I pressed Ilia to move on to our next engagement, I can truly say that we get more than we imagine when we follow God.  For me my treasured art from the auction world of Slotin would have been a picture with Steve or Amy Slotin.  Ilia moves up to introduce himself as we prepare to exit and I slipped up too; hoping for a picture by this renowned walking photographic legend with who is the greatest artitect of valuation of homespun authentic southern vernacular creations.  Ilia instructs Steve to be photographed with me and Steve says, we’re huggers around here and promptly wraps his arms around me in front of God and everyone and Ilia snaps the picture.  Just goes to show you can’t reinforce the power of a good greeting strong enough.  It’s important especially in the emotionally transformative world of creative treasure—a moment I shall truly never forget.

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The Commercial Centre by Horace Bradley

In the course of listening to artists talk about Atlanta’s art scene, a common question calls out, “Why is Atlanta’s art scene the way it is?” The Orly Field plane crash in Paris claimed the lives of 106 of Atlanta’s most influential art patrons in 1962, but what makes that such a significant event? We are very fortunate that Crannell published a historical account of art activities in Atlanta from 1847 to 1926 detailing the events leading up to the establishment of Atlanta’s first art museum in 1926.

In 1847 the newly named city of Atlanta tied together by railroad tracks and cotton was home to a mere 2,000 people, two hotels, a church, a bank and three newspapers. There was a general lack of direction and organization in the city. The city’s elite were self-made and business-oriented without a sense for establishing cultural standards. Consistency in government was lacking as the mayors did not serve multi-year terms during the first 27 years of the city. Streets and buildings were constructed without regard to planning or design. Life is Atlanta was consumed by building business and making a profit, not establishing culture.

Fortunately, those early newspapers were a guiding force in promoting the arts. The belief reinforced by the local editors and writers placed “art [as] a refining influence on the individual and the community at large, and that by embracing it, owning it and being exposed to it would lead to ‘culture.’” Atlanta’s theatrical scene was rowdy and unsophisticated. Culture and refinement were needed as instruments for social order.

In those early days there was evidence of arts patronage. There were public and private art teachers like Mrs. Cunningham and Mrs. Bramuller and practicing artists like Willis Buell, Joseph Van Stavoren, John Maier and C.W. Dill; but most were bi-vocational. The rise of panoramas or “moving pictures” in the late 1850s presented the first means of cultivating a more serious arts culture. A panorama was a long canvas that unrolled across a stage as a commentator or musician added to the experience. The art auction was introduced because of its success in Europe at the time. An exhibition of art preceded the auction allowing one week for the ladies of the community to view works and encourage their husbands on which works to make bids. The press continued to reinforce the understanding that the acquisition of art would lead to self-improvement and culture. The newspapers provided endorsements that “all who can afford them, should have pictures because they are pleasing to the mind, softening and humanizing to the heart and educate as well as books.”

James H Moser one of two illustrators for the 1880 Uncle Remus

In the 1880s several factors that created great enthusiasm for art including the International Cotton Exposition of 1881, the Art Loan of 1882, the Piedmont Exposition of 1887 and a visit by Oscar Wilde in July of 1882. The exposition of 1881 helped launch a spirit of optimism among a growing city of 37,000 about the progress the South had made since the War Between the States. The display of art at these exhibitions was done under the art direction of Horace Bradley, an artist and organizer who was held in high regard for maintaining a spirit of excellence. He traveled the world to bring back great art treasures to the city. Oscar Wilde’s speech in Atlanta carried the mantle of the Aesthetic Movement as part of an 18-month tour across the cities of American. He exhorted people “to love art for its own sake and… all things that you need will be added to you.” His presence in Atlanta gave the newspapers the fuel they needed to move the city toward culture in the era of the “New South.”

Irish poet and writer, Oscar Wilde Photograph taken in 1882 by Napoleon Sarony

Building on the foundation of many cultural achievements by these and others, nine socially prominent women came together in 1903 and put forth a petition to begin an organization with the expressed goal of establishing Bradley’s vision of an art school and art museum in Atlanta—the Atlanta Art Association. Until May 8, 1926 there had been no philanthropic gifts large enough to create such a center until Mrs. Joseph Madison (Hattie) High presented her 27,000 square foot home at 1262 Peachtree Rd for use as a museum. While coming much later than other cities, Mrs. High’s gift dwarfed the museums already existing in Nashville, Charleston and Savannah.

A city that began with a rowdy industrious spirit and without a leisure class was shaped by a handful of cultural activists who made progress over the course of 80 years with the aid of philanthropists, journalistic evangelists and committed art organizers. With only a modest 36-year heritage under its belt since the establishment of this new art museum, the cultural slate was wiped clean in 1962 leaving a new generation of pioneers to rise to the challenge of moving culture forward.

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It was a beautiful day and we had stopped t just to see what the city was like. Instantly, the camera came out and we were set off into a urban jungle of concrete and paint with interesting young people sporadically moving by on bicycles and walking. Their race and look was different than mine, but they did not look stoic and cold, they were boyish and girlish dressed in a unique style all their own. I was at ease because it was not like the Memorial Drive in Atlanta GA where I grew into my adolescence where homeless beggars and thieves made their way into our family business for places to sleep and to find things to sell. The place we ate lunch was often filled with armored ninja turtle like SWAT team members with each person taking room for two or three people in the center of the room. It was the only place they could reasonable sit to enjoy what must have been a treasured moment in the mist of the chaos of the city. The feeling in Miami was much closer to that of the Homegrown restaurant that has fill the well word shoe of Mammy’s Kitchen. Peaceful, fun, carefree and responsible. I liked it, a place where dialog can plant deep roots of understanding and camaraderie.
My natural love for urban graffiti was in high color as many buildings has offered these talented craftsman of the night public spaces to worship in the light of day. Entire exterior walls of buildings presented larger than life narratives of hope, peace, religion and a spirit of whimsy that engaged all that the eye could take in.

Nothing stood deeper in my conscious than a simple circle of black made by thumbs pitched outward center with the message “Fake is Good.” What a delicious commentary to place on a cement telephone pole. Could this be father from the truth. What is fake? What is Good? This creative message might easily raise those questions in interested observers.

Several years ago, I dialoged with a couple of close friends and creatives. One a talented mosaic artist and budding oil painter, the other a creative muse seeking to find her creative direction and canvas to show the world. The question over dinner was “What is evil?” How do you define it? What does it mean to say that something is evil?

The initial conversation centered around the major bad things like murder and the stuff made in modern horror movies. Everything clearly far from the ordinary lives we were living. Evil had not made it’s way in to our path oh no, not at all. How could it? We were having lunch and talking.

I’d done a search on the Greek meaning of the world evil in the Bible and read many of the passages in the Bible to gain a deeper understanding and was interested in what the contemporary creative mind had to say on this subject. Who better to ask that a committed group of creative artisans who embraced a strong sense of service to self and others.

Like many a Bible study that I’d taught over the last 15 years the gap in understanding was wide between common understanding and the ethos of the Truth-centric instructions of the ages. As I studied deeply my understanding rested simply on the that the essence of evil lies in the presentation of insincerity. To present a fake front or message out things to my outer world that knowingly or not were not consistent with my inside being was indeed what makes a thing evil. Or perhaps better stated, presents a spirit of evil. This was earth shattering to me. Could evil actually be something I’d never thought it to be? How could this be so? I continued to test this theory of morality and truth amongst others of the creative persuasion and found little resistance when we journeyed deeper into this subject of inner conscious and understanding.

Indeed it is so interesting to have and engage in the conversation of things beyond the surface of understanding.

I suppose I could be wrong. Have I made the Greek teaching of scribes and men who followed a strange fire in the desert my source for dividing truth? Perhaps it would make more sense to allow this concept of evil be shaped by the contemporary minds of musicians, filmmakers and artisans of modern day fore it is much easier to touch them and feel their heart and emotion. Perhaps it’s too ambitious to expect a common understanding on the context of a word so primal as evil and I should rest with an individual interpretation of some 6 billion people that happen to be alive right now.

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Alette Simmons-Jimenez & Allen at Artforms in Miami

Should we stop or press on to the Western most Key debated Ilia and I as I programmed the Global Positioning Unit.  Miami would be much to pass up, but what could be there? The museum looks of a tired and aging collection much like that of my hometown in Atlanta.  Six minutes and we can peak inside the first private gallery, so I swerve off the exit and rustle down NW 2^nd St to what would lead us to a eclectic, graffiti fed tantalization and works at Butter by Rick Falcon an his octagons of universal metaphysical infinity.  As we talked, I paused to take in the creepy decaying hands tattoo’d on his arm which were an obvious ironic commentary on the trustworthiness of a God above.  This was more enforced by the creative video that pictured the burial of family, faith and treasure in a pursuit of self-discovery connection with the primal qualities of existence through a reflective journey to

Rick Falon, Butter, Miami

The Lattice Tower by Alette Simmons-Jimenez

To walk politely and gracefully into Alette’s world of art and imagination is to touch lightly on the beautiful essence of those inner struggles of life and beauty.  A woman with hair of delicate dryed flowers is poised securely on a static tower like a fixed structure for others to admire; but fixed so that it can weave no further in that the petastal from which it is affixed.  To wander in further into Alette’s life work unlocked a deeper and more composed arrangement of creations speaking forth the mysteries held within her expressive heart.  A hanging tower of keys arranged and composed to make melodies in the wind, a pile of rats with one search for escape up a ladder to nowhere?  A maze of existence enmeshed with boundaries cried out to me, “Where is this freedom?”,  “Who am I truly?”.  Most certainly, she has found her role in a most interesting city of urbanization and interesting people constantly strolling by in interesting hats and riding old bicycles.

PanAmerican Projects, Miami

Pan American Projects was the next stop in Miami, directed by a woman who was no less than the perfect model of contemporary Latin culture dressed in the native earth and tan colors poised with turquoise and charm.  The collected works of Havana born, Luis Cruz Azaceta were painted large on the walls and speaking forth of turmoil that could only be a experience known as the horrible Katrina.  So many embrace this horror and seeming injustice but not with the bright colors of Latin flavor.  The door was opened by a photographic artist from Iceland whom was no doubt memorized by the 1950s artifact of photographic history that hung from Ilia’s shoulder while I peered forward to something I had never seen before in all my life; an aging couple with hair of white, dressed with white with accents of pinkish-red escorting a pure white poodle with a leashed with a touch of the same pinkish accent.  Two ladies held a 20-foot wide painting that could only be hung in a museum or a grand room for entertaining that carried a value of $185,000.  The group exchanged dialog and made plans to continue conversation and the poodle escorted these tasteful collectors towards the doorway.

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James and Niki are a couple of my biggest fans.  They’ve helped and encouraged me in more ways that I could ever count.  They happen to be musicians and pretty amazing ones at that.  Recently, this regular (James McKinney) on the Grand Ole Opry and his fiancee have formed a new group called ‘The Night Travelers,’  They’ve got big plans and I have no doubt they will accomplish them all.

I popped over for a visit the other day and Niki mentioned a gathering at The Red Light Cafe over in the Ansley Mall area of Midtown and James chimed in to announce that Ken Perlman and Allan Jabbour were starting their Southeast-Midwest tour in our great city–Atlanta.  How could I not participate in this musical treat.  James noted that Thursday evening at Red Light Cafe would be a evening of world class listening and musicology.  I know James’ accomplishments as a Banjo player and for him to say this was as compelling as and electron-magnet to a ACME Wile E. Coyote anvil.

When I arrived to a sparse but building crowd, I got a chance to chat with Ken and Allan and others who’d traveled from near and far to enjoy what could only be described as a milestone evening of culture, history and amazing-ness.

Allan has a deep deep love for the talents of the late Henry Reed of Glen Lyn, Virgina–a man who held a passion for fiddling and family.  Seemingly every song they performed had either a connection to Reed or the intellectually stimulating banjology of sounds adapted from the fiddlers of Prince Edward Island by Ken Perlman.  Ken’s explorations and adaptations fiddle tunes to (in that land) an unheard of Banjo instrument astounded natives and no doubt has wowed and will wow many a crowd across this great nation.

I chatted with Allan after a thrilling performance of Hosts James McKinney, Niki Portman and David in concert with Allan and Ken.  I asked him, ‘How was it that Henry Reed’s influence spread to so many places and people?’  He remarked, ‘Really he was only known in the town where he lived.’

It was at that moment and the way he said it that many things converged within me.  It was the love that and aging 90-something Henry Reed shared with a young Allan Jabbor that spread out the power of Henry’s homespun and learned tunes to ears and wavelengths to places Henry could have never reached in his day and time.  Should it not be that our own legacies by be communicated in this same manner though the love we invest in maybe only one or two lives.

There’s no doubt that the life you touch may indeed have a resounding amplification that may touch the heart of an entire nation.  And that my friends is about the highest kind of FrogShway there is known to man.

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After a period of almost 2 years of not seeing my adjacent next door neighbor, I’ve begun seeing more of him and several of his five children.  Mr Abebe is a truly interesting man.  Where else can you lean over the hedges and have a conversation on world politics with a man who is and was part of shaping it.  This former Ambassador and Secretary of State from Ethiopia has stories I can only imagine coming from Benjamin Franklin himself.  There’s something special about this concept of neighbor that comes directly from his homeland that doesn’t quite compute here in the good old U S of A.  I’m sure the Dixie Chicks would have never written the song ‘The Neighbor‘ if they’d lived in the only African country never to have been colonized.

I know Abebe has a special understanding of this concept of neighbor because it’s a special honor to let the other know if one of us is going out of town or something unusual is happening.  He’s big in the Ethiopian community of almost 20,000 in Atlanta and invited me to a cultural gathering in Clarkson, GA a couple of weeks ago.  I had a busy day planed, but since he is my neighbor and I too place a special value on that kind of relationship.  There are only 27 homes in my neighborhood and no one lives closer to me that Abebe; so I adjusted my schedule and spent a couple hours on the otherside of town for the sake of honoring him, his family and our special relationships.  It was so nice to see other neighbors already gathering around a table engaged in conversation and watching an assortment of colorful authentic dance routines.  I should mention that dancing is high FrogShway and worthy of your full attention whenever you have the chance.

After tasting a delightful array of cuisine that is eaten ‘southern-style’ without utensils (using only your fingers), Abebe invited me to drink some coffee under this amazing tent filled with incense and lovely Ethiopian beauties.  It felt like I’d skipped back a thousand years in time and was smoking a peace pipe with a tribal leader.  I’ll never forget that experience and then Abebe leaned over to tell me something very important; more important that perhaps anything I’ve heard before in my life outside of perhaps one thing.  He suggested to me that the neighbor in Ethiopia is more important than family.  The neighbor relationships is the highest relationship you can have; they are to take care of you when you have needs and to look after each other.  I know how much he loves his family and celebrates the events in their life.  For him to say this kind of thing to me in the way that he did was Earth shattering.  Perhaps I will never again be the same either.

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Monday was a GOOD day for the Shway as we met with Savannah College of Art and Design Alumni and Atlanta-area cartoonist, Allen Spetnagel. This is an exciting relationship for us because of Allen’s deep, deep skills at understanding the true essence of Shwayness. With style, charisma and all that is deeply winsome Allen brings to us the underlying principles of the Shway packaged in a unique cartoon-sized business card-like booklet that everyone old or young can enjoy. If you’ve got the SKILLS of an editor or a mind for shway we’d love to know who you are. We are building a STRONG STRONG team of reviewers to help guide and shape the future issues of the SHWAY. If that’s YOU, spend your name and a few bullet points of your qualifications to afrog@frogshway.com and our leadership team will review your talents for consideration on this powerful team of Shay-essence.

As always, keep the Shway HIGH and remember even enemies are deserving of some LOVE. In the immortal works of John Pace…’Keep the hate down.’

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There are a few things that are meaningful in LIFe and SHWAY aims to expose those things n GRAND Shway-o-licious style. Hard work, pure motives and a passion for pleasing God are all apart of that spirit. This past week was a duesy. The Shway did five days of festivaling at two locations thanks to our strong network of supporters. Gracious and heartfelt appreciation goes out to (in no particular order) Beau Smith, Lisa Pirkel, Rick Fullaway, Charles Upchurch, Dan Taylor, Niki Portmann, James McKinney, Lake Sirmon, Dolores French Nick and Jen Bimmerle and the team at REV Coffee, Amy Walsh, Aegis, Arel and many many other interested supporters who continue to buy in to our Shway of Life.

We setup Frogage and other interesting and collectable works at both Scotts Antique Market and REV Fest 2010 Fall edition. The REV event was a true experience of phenomenology. It was GREAT! And so the lights can continue to shay on at Brownmoore Manor. With the help of a few trustworthy and talented WEB GENUISUS we hope to be bringing you our Shway-odious online catalog here in the short term. It’s by no means well overdue and we are working on it, it’s just a slow uphill journey of knowledge. With HIGH season for festivaling and heavy ramp up energy for daFrogWorks (aka our Art Factory for da Frogage and other stuff) we’ve about tapped our available resources and are looking to EXPAND Texas style with some DEEP DEEP local talent from people like Ray Ray, Julie Golden, David Jewell and a few other loyal supporters and wielders of the HIGH SHWAY energy.

In celebration of that HIGH VOLTAGE energy, we are PROUD to announce our VERY first FREE FROGURINE give away. Well, it’s not entirely FREE, because we are asking for an exchange of contact information our our WEBSITE frogshway.com. Sign up in the MONTH of October and earn a chance to add your choice of one of the three following items to your important collection of cultural artifacts from well known artist, sculptor, and 21^st century Renaissance man, Beau Smith. Signup is on the right hand side of the website side and please know that it’s a double opt in, so you’ll need to confirm by e-mail that you signed up for your chance to win. Don’t why away from the additional information on T-shirt size and address information. We’re shooting for a mailing announcing some EXCITING information in the near term and I know you won’t want to MISS out on an AMAZING opportunity to spread the BEST of LOCAL culture into the place where PEACE and HARMONY live (e.g., your home).

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