Artist Statement

    I drive down an old two-track dirt road with nothing but sage brush everywhere.  I wonder to myself, where the hell is this going, will I be able to keep driving and come back out on the main road? Hey, wait a minute, is that an old abandoned homestead over on the far hill? Sure enough, it is.  Driving up on the old place I notice that it’s nothing but ruins, junk to most.  I step out of my truck and walk around the structure looking for the jewels;  those old cans, bottles, rusty iron nails, horseshoes, barbed wire, wood; anything I might be able to stick on a pot. Yes, I’m looking for where the old residents of this place dumped their trash. To most of you this isn’t a dump like you are used to. This is a small dumping area where they disposed of their unwanted goods. 

    As I walk the perimeter I begin to see it.  The junk is starting to jump out at me. I can see it spread out amidst the Wyoming sage.  Usually when I find something like this I find it scattered from the Wyoming wind, cattle or past visitors.  I begin to pick up the goods and will later incorporate them into my work.  I feel it enhances the look of my pottery, makes the viewer think twice about the piece and wonder what’s attached to it from “back in the day.”                  

     Maybe at some time in your life you’ve been on a trip like this, but if you’re in an urban area then you may not have the luxury of being able to drive in the middle of nowhere and coming across some of these old abandoned places.   Wyoming has a lot of this rich history, such as old gold mining towns or wagon trails, like the well known “Oregon Trail.”  These trails cut deep tracks into the sagebrush, dirt and rock from wagons that were headed west years ago, evidence of the past, but let’s not forget those who were here before us. Before all of that were the natives.

     The natives, they were the people who were here long before we stole their lands.  I believe that these native people represent the western plains more genuinely than the whites that invaded their lands.  When I’m out wondering around in the true outdoors I really focus on those items that they had to somehow survive off of.  They didn’t have a lot in terms of possessions, but they did have something to brag about and that’s the beauty of the west.  In my work you will notice I dedicate most of my work to those who truly own this land. 

     I want my pottery to represents what is ‘beginning to be forgotten’.  I want the viewer to imagine the way it was and in some places, still is.  If you purchase a piece of pottery that has rusty iron attached to it, you’ll know that it was found in some historical place.  You’ll notice that many of my pieces have petraglyphic carvings on them.  These carvings may appear strange but closely resemble the photographs of petrogyphs that I have taken throughout parts of the state. 

     When you pick up a piece of my work you’ll instantly know that this is true western pottery, none of that molded shit that is reproduced over and over.  This is real substance, real texture that you can feel, iron that can poke you if your’re not careful (tetanus shot updated?).  I use the true west to create my work, wood texture from real wood, rock texture from real rocks, hair from real buffalo hair, you get my drift.  I’m proud of who I am and the art that I represent, I’m true and down to earth.  I even use clay that I have picked up from the hills in much of my work.  

     Thank you for taking the time to look at my work. It is one of a kind and original. You will not find this kind of work on any other site. Please look over this site and enjoy my western-inspired work.                                                                                                                                                                                       

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        
Sincerely,

Brian Dion