I can't recall the first time I met Lee, nor did I know then that he was an artist. He was just a seemingly really nice guy in his beavertail shoes, dressed like the love child of Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, and I liked him immediately.

He's one of those people who I feel like I can enter into a completely bizarre conversation with for hours, having fun testing the limits of absurdity while still maintaining a touch of coherence. Don't know why, that's just the impression I got after a few quick chats with him, and I'm usually pretty damn good at reading people. In him I read an absolutely delightful, comical absurdity, and on top of that, he's just a really nice guy...

Then, I saw his art, and was completely astounded...

I fell in love not only with the art itself, but the ideas behind the paintings, as well.

I've put a few of them up here for you,  but that's not even close to enough - just what I almost had room for. This "interview" was Lees brainchild, trying to figure out a way we can do something to get him up on Big Top in the absence of my transcriber. Unfortunately I didn't know about it until later on due to limited interweb access, and with barely enough time to throw some idiot questions at it - but I believe the rest of it definitely holds its own!

To see more of his amazing work and purchase it for your very own, make sure you swing by his website - you can find the link for your happy fingers to click on at the bottom of this  page, and please now, enjoy:

 The Lee Harvey Roswell Online Public Facebook Interview!

Matt Cornell wrote in: "Briefs, boxers, or brief boxers?"

LHR: That's a good question Matt, and I'm glad you ask. I'll try to be brief. Too many folks just lift a leg through the first hole they find, then just as indiscriminately lift the other leg through another hole, and pull whatever it is they just stepped into up to their waist all willy-nilly, and their done with it. For all they know they're wearing their hoodie 'round their crotch! People aren't really taking the time to consider the quality of what's juggling their junk. My underwear drawer, a large floor really, is made up of two parts bikini underwear (usually I like a fairly exotic print, that's just me) to one-part boxers. I wear the bikini underwear mostly as form of birth control, and the boxers are for when I'm out in my baggy pants, like you see all the kids doing these days. When your ass is hanging half-way out your pants you want a little more cloth to cover things. Or maybe you don’t…

Matt Cornell followed up with: "Also, how do you feel about circumcision?"

LHR: Pained at first. But, you know, you grow into things... I mean unless those things are removed of course, but you move on I mean to say. Truth is I can't even watch people eat calamari. I go absolutely fetal! I am reminded though, of a story I caught in a book called High Weirdness By Mail, by the Rev. Ivan Stang of the Church of the Subgenius about...let me see if I got this right... a doctor who had made a personal mission of... unveiling the circumcision conspiracy. Well, this doctor ended up with a smattering of pedophile charges when he was pulled over by state troopers who found files stuffed full of pictures of under aged boys genitals in the back of his car. True story.

Matt Cornell followed up with: "And which person living or dead would you most like to meet?"

LHR: Living, definitely living! Dead people scare the hell out of me!

Oh, you mean... I see. Well, I'd say... I'd like to have met my grandfather. A pretty narcissistic answer, because I'm always told by my family how much like my grandfather I am.

Louis Armstrong, I'd really like to have met him too. I'd have liked to smoke a joint with Louis, see his big smile burst wide open, then head back inside to hear him cut through everything with that horn of his.

P.T. Barnum too, I'd have liked to have my pockets emptied by the greatest. I don't know, the truth is there's so many people I can think of who I'd like to meet I shouldn't get started.

Matt Cornell followed up with: "And describe the worst piece of art you ever made."

LHR: Today, or in this lifetime? That's a tough one, because there have been many. Oh, I got it, the first painting I ever sold. This is when I first got into painting as a trade. A friend of mine invited me to help him complete a commission he'd somehow landed. He did abstract stuff, and since we were working on it in a room full of drunk college girls I figured why not take the initiative. And we went to that canvas like monkeys in a gang war. Months later the patron called my friend to let him know the painting we sold him was falling apart. My friend and I, avant-guarde as we were, had used household cleaning products in our little mixed media frenzy. We did touch-ups on the piece, but really, what good is that going to do? By now the poor guy must be the less-than-proud owner of a dwindling square inch of art and some stretcher bars.

Antigone Gregory wrote in: "Who is your favorite cousin?"

LHR: Well, since it's you asking, I'd say hands down my favorite is my cousin Tiggi.

Joshua Laytart wrote in: "*What was the first piece you ever sold? How old were you?"

LHR: Well, I just told the story of that unfortunate venture. I think I was about sixteen or seventeen.

Joshua Laytart followed up with: "What have you not painted yet that is itching to come out?"

LHR: Okay, there is a piece I always mean to set aside the time to paint. I have a lot of ideas that never see the light of day, some of them even good ideas, but this piece always sticks out in mind. Now, I'm gonna take a leap of faith and assume most anyone reading this likes humor. Well, you don't get much more humor than the meandering of a good Irish writer, and Flann O'Brien is one who I highly recommend. He wrote a novel called The Third Policeman that is a favorite of mine, and I would love to do a painting based on that book. All planned out and everything. Maybe at the end of this year I'll be able to tackle that one.

Joshua Laytart followed up with: "Do you consider yourself part of an art scene, if so, which one?"

LHR: No, not really. I'm not so keen on labels.

Joshua Laytart followed up with: "Do you sell your prints on ebay, and if not- WHY NOT!!!"

LHR: No, I don't. But I'm getting the impression you're telling me I should.

Suepattra May wrote in: "What do you consider to be adversity?"

LHR: Blind painters. The scene they unfortunately cut out of Tod Browning's Freaks where the torso-man rolls and lights his own cigarette with his face. Wile E. Coyote and an endless supply of acme products. Mark Twain and his investments in the Paige Compositor. The clouds that always follow me room to room. Basically, what's around every corner.

Alexi Sirah Boshart wrote: "I hear that you sometimes paint outside on the streets of San Francisco, but is that just a rumor, because I saw a picture of you and you're really pale?"

LHR: What are you saying exactly? I'm pale? I'm not pale. I'm just... neo-tan, and maybe you're not hip to that. Pale! You make me sound sea-sick or something. But "the San Francisco street sightings", I too am dubious of the whole allegation. There are any number of knock-offs and pop-ups, or knock-ups and pop-offs out there these days. If you think you've spotted me painting away on the street, I'd advise you to approach things scientifically. Give the person a twenty dollar bill. Watch him for his reaction. Did he behave the way I would have? Probably he did. But, stick to the scientific approach! Test and retest! Another bill! Another! Mix things up! Give the person a kiss! Again, how did he react? Now, confuse him with marijuana cigarettes. When high did he break character? You get my drift...

Alexi Sirah Boshart followed up with: "What do you think of the term "pop surrealism"? Do you think you fit into the category?"

LHR: I think I'm more Mom Dadaist really. I don't know, I know it's a nice sales gimmick and all someone in Seattle dreamt up, probably not a working artist themselves. I don't use it, don't care for it, don't buy into it... nothing. I like to boil labels until they fall off, then let the sun bleach them pure white.

Alexi Sirah Boshart followed up with: "When will you be showing in Los Angeles?"

LHR: Not soon enough. There's no such plan at the moment. C'mon L.A., what d'ya say? Open up your loving arms and press this pale, yes, there I said it!, this pale little half-wit to your smog-concealed bosom and love me!!!

Joshua Laytart wrote in: "What contemporary artists inspire you? Are there any San Francisco artist out there now that you like?"

LHR: Painters, or artists in general? Painter-wise, I really enjoy Mark Tansey's work. Chuck Close had a great show at SFMOMA a few years back. Locally, we've got collage-artist Winston Smith who I've enjoyed since I was a teenager. I once had a studio that shared a back yard with Mars-1. I like where he's taken and taking himself. And guys with numbers in their names, Adam 5100 does some amazing things with stencils. Lots of talent out there. 

Joshua Laytart followed up with: "When you were young, did you ever draw/paint anything that freaked people out?"

LHR: Strange nothing specific comes to mind, but I know I've drawn and painted many a thing that freaked people out. My work used to be much more vulgar, so I got a lot of flack. Especially when I was painting on the street, because back then I took a perverse pleasure in challenging my crowd's good taste. I'm on a different trip though now. I don't care as much if what I do shocks. I'd actually be surprised these days if a work of mine made someone really flip their wig.

Michelle Maloy wrote in: "How do you view/see your older work with learning more technique?"

LHR: I look back with probably a more critical eye than most, but most of that critique is directed against concepts and composition as opposed to how well I mimicked flesh tones, or how accurate a form was executed. I think it's more important an artist has a good idea to work with than that idea be executed with Vermeer-like ability. Crude can still convey something, but a piss-poor idea just won't survive the long run.

Brad Ruder wrote in: "Who are important artistic influences to you and how did you first come across their work?"

LHR: Well, I just answered a question about painters, not so much influences but artists who's work I like. So instead I'll mention some film makers who weigh in when I'm composing a painting. Besides all the obvious great masters of painting, film makers probably have more influence over my work anyway. I love David Lynch's films. I think he captures the dream world unlike any other. Fellini's another who's films have had an noted effect on my own work. Guillermo del Toro, David Cronenberg, the Cohen Bros., all contemporaries I enjoy, and some of that enjoyment has probably seeped it's way into my work. Anything I get excited about stands a good chance of finding itself reflected in some way in my paintings. 

Michael Grejsen wrote in: "How many bagel pizzas can you eat in 5 minutes?"

LHR: None. I can't eat cheese... I turn into a werewolf. Hold the cheese pizza bagels? I'd say about 50. I'm a bottomless glutton.

Jodi Sanchez wrote in: ""Do you pay attention to dreams you have at night? How do they affect you, if at all?""

LHR: You bet. I've had points in my life where I was more wrapped up in my dreams than I was with my waking life. And from time to time, not as diligently as I used to, I write dreams down in a special dream diary too. I remember a time when I wore this dirty rag around my right hand when I went to bed. It had the words, "YOU ARE AWAKE" written on it palm-wise. It was a gimmick to trigger lucid dreaming, I'd see the hand and understand I was in a dream, and I had a lot of success with it. I don't think Anne-Marie would be keen about me bringing some filthy bit of cloth into our bed now, more of a bachelor's trick really, but I don't think I even need it. For a reefer-head I've had many a lucid slumber.

Josh Keppel wrote in: "In these tough economic times, is your company experiencing any layoffs?"

LHR: First of all Josh, I'm assuming you're writing this when you should be in naptime at school, because your grammer is a little off. It's not "is your company," it's "are your companies". But you wouldn't know that, would you? I expected I'd get at least one smart-ass, using the occassion to write in and heckle. Look Keppel, I know you! I might not have my name attached to every trivial island or beach under the sun, but I'm doing just fine. Alright? Alright!? This is my time to shine!

Josh Keppel followed up with: "Many people have a love/hate relationship with clowns, and I think most of the haters are those who are afraid of clowns. Are there any clowns you are afraid of?"

LHR: Look, I know damn well what you're referring to, and I'm not about to let some lone wolf's prank start a rift between the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence and me. Your asking these questions to try to trip me up and irritate me, and it's not working.

Josh Keppel followed up with: "Do you think painters should be able to take steroids, or does that make for unfair competition?"

LHR: Alright, bravo, you've done your homework. Good for you. Good for you! Look, it's simple Keppel. I work out, I take care of my body, rather extensively as it happens. And it shows. End of story. Thanks for writing in Keppel.

Josh Keppel followed up with: "What do you think about the public, let it be seen by all, aspects of Myface and Spacebook?"

LHR: What, you think I care however many people out there are reading this. &^$*@% *^%#& them! I don't care what they think! You're the one who's coming off like an idiot, pal, not me. You can take your baiting little questions, all this extra time you find to ruin what I'm doing, and your Keppel Coast or wherever the hell it is, and go #^*(*^!)($(*)(&#*@)(*(*$%(&)(&#*)#&$&@($&@^&@ -self, okay! Next question!

(Edit that one out. Edit it out, and it I'll take the next one live. I'll do it live. I'LL DO IT LIVE!!!)

kSea flux wrote in: "What if The Land of the Blind had one of those blind kung-fu guys? Would the one-eyed King still have the upper hand?"

LHR: Finally, a real question. Thanks kSea. Hmm, hold, on. I'm gonna need to pull out the grande pipe for this question. (Ten minutes later, in a cloudy haze, resurfacing at the keyboard...) Easy. The answer is five, and let me explain why. A guy knows kung-fu and he can't see, he's gonna hurt himself and everyone in his path. The thing to do is get out of the way of a loose canon like that and let him run his course. He's inevitably going to end up doing some Hidden Dragon/ Crouching Tiger stuff right off a cliff, never to heard from again. That one-eyed fellow should ditch his crown and royal position and head for the hills. Wait it out! And while he's got the time on his hands, he should dedicate his temporary exile to growing another eye. That would be the wise thing. And a few more arms wouldn't hurt either. And learning kung-fu.

David M Wallace wrote in: "Mr. Roswell: your styles have many directions, from humorous to down-right nightmarish!  What brings you back to your center?"

LHR: Cen-ter... hmm... cen---ter. I remember something people called "center." It was big, and full of rakes, and fertilzer, and folding chairs. But I have no idea how to get there from here. I'm stuck in extremes.

Matthew J Harman wrote in: "Which is your favorite kind of monkey?"

LHR: The shaven kind. It's an enlightening image to behold, and I think everyone should shave a monkey bald so as to have that experience. Of course, be considerate. Your monkey's now completely hairless, and cold. Put the poor thing in an spare suit of yours. Hell, drop 'em off in the financial district, and who knows, that monkey may come back home in the evening more the bread-winner in the family than you!

kSea flux wrote in: "Just because I've actually heard people ask you this before, and would like to get it out to all the world so's that people know the scoop behind your facial hair... Is your mustache real?

LHR: I paid good money, it better be real!

Mig Miner wrote in: "Have you ever injured anyone with your moustache?"

LHR: I poked my wife, Anne-Marie in the eye once, but I don't know if I'd call it an injury. I don't remember what we were doing at the time. It wasn't a kiss. Though one thing about a mustache of this particular length and angle is that from time to time I do notice... I can kiss Anne-Marie, and with my eyes open, I can see my mustache transplanted onto her lips. I guess for some men that might even be traumatic, but I'm pretty much used to the women around me showing up suddenly with facial hair in some form, grease-paint, or glued-on, or penciled-in, or what have you. I have poked myself in the eye with my mustache once in my sleep. I was changing the position of my head on the pillow and boing! Whiskers in the eye. I think I woke Anne-Marie with that little shock. It just that kind of world.

kSea flux wrote in: "If you keep time with the music, where does time go when the music stops? Can you keep time with painting - or does it keep you? What if you painted clocks? Would you need to keep changing the painting to reflect the time?
Can I have some coffee? I'm talking nonsense."

LHR: Well, listen... (do my Garrison Keillor impression) the music says it's... time to go, and time and I are on our feet, putting on our overcoats. Painting? Well, painting's fading away with every stroke as he gets lost in the clock.And the clock itself loks ready to start whistling and "poof" be gone. And you, and you dear sir sound like you've had your fill of coffee!

Thanks kSea and everybody else who wrote in! I enjoyed answering your questions. Thanks for playing!

 

To see more incredible art that Lee has created, as well as be fortunate enough to actually purchase his work and hang it on your very own wall, have your pretty little fingers click here! 

 

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