Hardrock’s Prize Winning Shoats Georgia Red Mud Steven Chandler Memory Painting

Hardrock Garrison was one of my grandads partners in crime back in the 20’s, 30’s and 40’s rural South Carolina.

I never met him as I believe he died tragically before he reached is golden years but every wild story involving my grandad running corn liquor, gambling or farming had Hardrock in there somewhere, pronounced Hod-rock by my grandads heavy South Carolinian dialect.

So this is Hardrock as I imagine him with his prize winning shoats ready to horse trade them for some white lightning or maybe some farm equipment.

I wish I had written some of those stories down, my grandad died going on 40 years ago, those stories come to me sometimes like a flash out of nowhere and they come out in these paintings I do.

7UP & Hog Farmers Georgia South Carolina Art in a Rural Winter Farm House

I did this one back this winter huddled in the studio snug up with a heat blanket and space heater in a 35 to 50 degree house.

This old Georgia farm house has no central heat, just a big old wood stove in the hall. Why I got to thinking about hogs and farmers and 7UP is a mystery to me.

I am not a 7UP drinker and the last time I farmed a hog was 4 decades ago with my grandad on his South Carolina farm. Winter in a old southern farm house does something to you I reckon.

Hog Farmers-Georgia Red Mud Painting Wading in Realism

My other series of art not shown here, realist, figurative women, have bled over to the flat, iconic Red Mud southern narrative. I knew it would and there is no going back. There has never been in my mantra the idea of going back, for better or worse, press-on. I like what I am doing now more than ever, both here and the “models”.

There is a greater challenge in this departure and an even greater sacrifice as I know I am not going to be able to let these go as willingly as before. The reasons for this I’ll type about later. I have taken down much of what I have had on this blog, years actually. So much I have created that is out there in the world when I see it pop up at auctions, I wonder who did it. Me? One time at least it wasn't. Other times, most of the time I wish I hadn’t.

I guess what I am saying here is I’m cleaning house, turning a new leaf, evolving again. Whatever "folk" I had in me is fading away. I can’t make it anymore, I am too critical of it and it is not challenging at all. In fact just about everything I see in terms of art falls victim to this from my eye to the point I can hardly look at anything anymore.

These hog paintings started this past winter cooped-up by the space heater in my studio bedroom thinking about the days decades ago when I helped my grandad out on his South Carolina farm before he died. Again, I like this rather larval stage new direction very much...more to come,better,honest.

As for the "Other Work" that blog page is on the way.