Before 1863, art was predictable in composition, technique and presentation. There were rules to follow and if you wanted to sell your work, you got in line. Snooty French dudes (The Academy) picked the art for the annual Salon de Paris and were not impressed with most of the 1863 submissions. A bunch of nonconformist artists and styles were emerging and The Academy did not approve. They stamped the back of each rejected submission with an R. Tempers flared, outrage ensued and Emperor Napoleon, a lover of public opinion, ordered “The Salon des Refuses” or “Exhibition of the Rejected” to be held adjacent to the Salon. Let the people decide. Panned by the critics and adored by the public, contemporary art was born.
In 2025 Florida, everyday is a Salon des Refuses. There’s a place about a dozen miles away where donated things go to die. It’s the last stop before the landfill. Sheri scours the thrift and donation centers for discarded consumerism: canvases, boards, easels, books, tissue paper, lamps, screws, velcro, bowling balls, wine racks, shell curtains, wood blocks, clock parts … It’s where pickers line up to dig through bins and boxes looking for stuff to reuse, resell or repurpose. If you go often enough and you have a keen eye, you can furnish your whole house and outfit your wardrobe for pennies a pound. It’s where we source all our art materials. We try to find appreciation in things rejected and present them in a modern Salon des Refuses.
Lucite and metal suspended in a vintage bowling ball.
Sheri wanted to hang a sculpture in the pool cage suspended above the water. It needed to withstand the Florida weather – lots of hot with occasional hurricane winds and rain. Heavy, but not too heavy, something that could be drilled into. Eric suggested a bowling ball. We found plastic rods. With no idea what they were, Sheri liked that there were dozens of them in varying lengths and sizes. Then, some chime rods from a broken grandfather clock. Maybe use a soccer ball to figure out a pattern for where the holes would go. Frank Sputnik was launched.
Handcut hexagons on repurposed canvas.
Color, creed and pronouns aside, people are made of all the same parts – heads, shoulders, knees and toes; eyes and ears and mouth and nose. A beating heart gives use and purpose. A closer look reveals stories, connections and points of view. We Are All One.
Acrylic and tissue paper on repurposed canvas
Unfit, ill-prepared and impulsive, the Story of Mt. Brown is the intersection of stupidity and ambition. Hiking in sneakers and shirt sleeves above the last of the tree-line into the alpine zone on Mount Brown, the urge to summit overrode common sense. Sometimes you have to burn it down to make room to grow.
Cellophane, spraypaint and netting on repurposed canvas
Pickleball is exploding across the nation. It’s a multigenerational pickup version of stand up ping pong. There are fun archetype players like dinkers and bangers, the thrill of landed drop and the agony of into the net. Paddles are cheap and community courts are free. Just don’t get pickled.
Paper on Canvas, 2023
It’s in the eyes. Adversity, survival, wisdom.
Back in the 1960s, Lee Reynolds Burr started the giant art movement with an idea that middle America wanted original, affordable art to hang over their sofa. To feel genuine and exclusive, he created master paintings then hired dozens of artists for his Vangard Studio to produce riffs on them. There was a subject for every style – landscapes, flowers, architecture, still life, bullfighters, and more. Each one was signed by the artist posing as Lee Reynolds and sold in America’s furniture stores. Today you can find them at yard sales, in thrift stores and on eBay.
Forgetting to fully photograph the origin canvas, it was an abstract Lee Reynolds bird, possibly a peacock in full sherbert colored plume. Intended as a painting, it evolved to paper from the books Animal Architects and Vegan Burgers and Burritos.
Metal and wood on sheetrock
The Chinese design practice of feng shui is about aligning objects with natural energy patterns to create harmony and positive energy in a room.
A broken metal chandelier, a mid century modern wooden wine rack and a 10 foot framing board on the side of the road collaborate to bring nature beyond the wall and into the room.
Paper and punched steel on hardboard, 2023
Living in a tent means avoiding the best places to see cactus in bloom. Hint: It’s too hot to sleep. To appreciate them in full bloom year round, find an illustrated guide in the book sale at the Jenna Walsh and Laura Bush library at El Paso Community College. After you post a blog and make lunch on the tailgate in the parking lot, carry it around the country and when you get back to Florida, deconstruct it and frame it with the remnants of a punched steel mid century plant stand. Preserve the memory, the artistic genius of Erni Cabat and the spirit of the cactus in bloom.
Cellophane, glitter spray paint and crystals on wood bi-fold door
We’re not fans of the commercialization of Christmas, but we do participate in select ways. No gifts for anyone over 8, handmade decorations and a thematic feast with family.
A bi-fold door and glitter spray paint from Habitat for Humanity, crumpled cellophane torn from a Halloween witches hat and crystals from vintage chandeliers fold and store in the corner of the garage. Recycle, reuse, repurpose. Save a tree.
Three refinished stools destined for the landfill
When a useful thing is at the end of its aesthetically pleasing life, we ditch or donate. Styles, trends and preferences change. Neglect causes eyesores. Broken things tend not to get fixed because new things are readily available. Well-loved things are hard to let go. We can’t bring ourselves to ditch them, so we donate, hoping some other will find a way to love them too.
Three solid, big-butt worthy, honey toned claw stools sat stained, with varnish worn and a $9.99 price tag. Into the Ranger they went. Stripped, sanded, and clawed back to life with a coat of Rust-Oleum Venetian Yellow Water Based Acrylic Milk Paint.
Thanks for donating!
The Matador going as Michael Myers
No haunted house is complete without a creepy portrait. When The Matador showed up in the disposal center, we paid $3 for him and invited him to the party. He begged to go as Michael Myers. A mask, a head and a chef’s knife with a little Modge Podge and Listo! A Halloween icon is born.
Discarded fashion on hardboard, 2024
The beaded curtain has a vibe. When it shows up in the donation center as a knotted mess, get the scissors and deconstruct. While you’re at it, strip some leather circles off a disco era purse and scoop up a box of brass brads someone dumped in a ziploc bag. If you can find a hardboard, make abstract coffee. Mix Golden Gel Pumice into carbon black as a nod to the daily grind.