Heavy Metal Works
Mission Statement, Bio, and Musings
Heavy Metal Works
Brian Bowick aka BBO (beebow)
Artist/Owner
5/16/2017
Ahh, Metal!
It's tough, beautiful, malleable and permanent. Nature's patina or rust is a gift, everlasting, ever changing. Metal is the medium and soul of my work. I disdain the terms "scrap," "junk," and "trash" metal. To me, it's "found." The metal I find is just waiting to be something, to be returned home, to be reused, to be re-purposed, to be recycled, to be reconfigured, and, ultimately, to be revealed.
Process
I'll select a piece of metal I have found and stare at it until it reveals what it is, or wants to be. Did you hear that metal whisper? Cheesy? True. Honest? Also true. That is my process. I am simply a conduit. My goal is to unlock the potential I see in the piece. The best part of the process is the acknowledgment that the art I visualize in my head gives way to what the piece actually wants to become as it forms or gestates. Idea, or vision, and finished product rarely align for me. I am open to that. I relish in that. I anticipate that, so I go with it.
Creativity
My creativity melds with my twisted sense of humor, my education, my background and my experience to create unusual figurines of people, animals, insects, and alien hybrids. Sure, I do crafty things too: bowls and furniture and shelving and frames. I fix tools and do repair-barter with neighbors. But it's the art that fuels my passion. It's extremely rewarding to watch people take in my art. It strikes everyone on some level. I especially like to witness the little kiddos jaws drop as they exclaim and point at a piece I have created. Often, they look around for a friend or family member to confirm that what they are seeing is the same thing others are seeing too. It's when I know that they are in the place that I dwell: the realm of possibility. That is a good thing.
Welding
I have always loved working with tools, any kind of tools, hand tools, power tools, pneumatic tools, hydraulic tools, you name it. I like figuring things out and doing things myself. 12 years ago, I got a simple wire-feed 110 amp Lincoln Mig welder as a gift. I watched the instructional video and taught myself to weld. My first weld was/is laughable. I still have it in my studio to remind myself of my progress. I proceeded to weld on my own for the next few years until, by chance, I found a mentor, Dennis, who helped me refine my technique and tool use. Since then my hobby has grown into a burning, sparking passion.
Passion
Needless to say, I love what I do. I weld nearly everyday. Sometimes, when I finish a piece, I find myself laughing out loud at how crazy or ridiculous it is. I continue to surprise myself as I as push my own boundaries. Sometimes, I simply scratch my bald head wondering where the piece came from. It usually happens when I lose myself and find myself all at the same time. When my wife comes to my studio and tells me it's time to come home, I'll look at her and wonder why. Then she reminds me it's mid-night, and I'll know I've been in that place, and I'm glad, full, sated, and renewed.
Mission Statement: I want my art out there in the world. I want to share it. I want it to inspire the realm of possibility in people. I want exemplify the cliche:
“One person's trash is another's treasure…”
I dedicate my life to art and balance and my wife and family. I demonstrate the value and utility of discarded and dismissed steel stripped from machines, vehicles, tools, equipment and toys.
On My Mission Statement
I have found that “one thing” in my life that I am required to pursue. I have no choice. I am compelled to weld. Like Curly said on City Slickers, “The secret to life is just one thing. Figure that out and stick to it.” I am encouraged, by myself and for myself, to do something with it everyday. I am driven to continue the search for the perfect piece of metal to create that perfect sculpture, that perfect critter or figurine, that perfect piece of art. It comes naturally and it is my mission.
Folly
I admit the folly of the above mission statement. It is redundant, repetitive and futile. It's “unobtanium” realized. I know the score. I also acknowledge the fact that there is no “perfect” piece of art. It makes no difference to me. I must press this thing I do.
Brian Bowick
(BBO)
