Thanks for being just as nosey as I am.
You are here. Why? I don’t know, but you are, so welcome. Someone either passed along this link to you or maybe you found me submerged in the sea of Google waste or captured by Yahooligans, but you found me, and I thank you very much for that!
My name is Andrew Johnson, but for the sake of this blog and my ridiculously large schnoz, you can call me NoseyOne. I have started this blog to share with you my creative nature and humor, while you share yours.
I am a rather unique individual (not gonna lie). I am actually pretty confident to say that there are not a lot of people out there like me. Good thing? I don’t know. Bad thing? I still don’t know. But what I do know is that I am determined for you, the person reading this (and hopefully following this), to know who I am and what I am all about.
I grew up in the 1990s, and much of what I do today is a product of this generation. I still frequently watch episodes of Art You Afraid of the Dark? (which I bought boot-leg on DVD) and re-runs of All That (which I still find ironically funnier than today’s SNL). My favorite color (other than blue) is orange, which till this day I still believe has a direct correlation to the orange Nickelodeon gak logo that squirted across my screen every day around 4:00 PM. My favorite meal is a ham and cheese sandwich and a mini Butterfinger’s bar thanks to the buttery crackers, the 6″ high slab of ham (that’s what she said) and cheese, and the pathetic/depressing portion of desert that came in my Lunchables meal each and every day. And, I now prefer to read a digital clock over an analog clock purely do to the fact that (A) I did not pay attention in school for this part of class, (B) it takes me a few seconds to read analog clocks (5…10…15…20…), and (C) the clock that they used to teach analog reading on gave me nightmares; it’s eyes were glued to the center of the clock, and the big and small hand looked like a mustache around 8:20; it was messed up!
I would sit in front of the TV watching hours and hours of Action League Now, hoping that one day I would be as big and strong as Thundergirl (she was bigger than Flesh, right?). But that certainly proved not to be the case. I think I was 5’5 when I was born, and the same holds true today. I am not a she, I can’t fly and certainly not like thunder. And, I am definitely not ‘super strong and super naked!’ All one hundred and fifty pounds of me is just leftover high school muscle, and a beard that I have been growing since eight grade that once looked like a Chinese Crested dog and is now a full Chinese buffet. Nevertheless, I did learn one thing from those Action League toy rejects, you are never too old to play with toys.
toys [toiz] are pieces of art. Toys R’ Us, just still and lifeless. Yet, toys are sometimes more alive than us, as human beings. We can easily strike a pose, embody a certain mood, change the outfit we are wearing, play catch with the kid next door; toys can’t. They can’t do anything actually. They are lifeless pieces of plastic (or whatever material their epidermis is). We can control when we want to do something, but a toy must wait. Sit. Stand. Lay there. Hide beneath layers and layers of other toys, shadowed by the lid above. Imagine standing in a room for a few days, looking at the same corner of the room wondering when someone or something was going to move you; make you fall over. I look at toys as people. Am I crazy? Probably. Do I care? No. Do you care? I hope not. It just makes me see the world a little more funnily than I think it already is.
It’s these little humors where my creative drive stems from. The 1990s filled my mind with such innovative and corky ideas, as do the toys that are currently sitting on my desk or stuffed in the oversized Zip-Lock Bag in my closet; these are the means for my artistic imagination and expression. Both, in some way, coincide with one another. Each brings a unique quality to my visual imagination, molding a rather bizarre, funny, and out-of-this world perspective on life.
I am a fanatic when it comes to photographing toys. This idea of bringing the lifeless to life fascinates me. I get giddy when I see bold lines. Overtime you will begin to see how anal retentive I am when it comes to detail. Bold lines are my way of outlining chaos and disorder. They are sharp. Although you can’t apply lotion or spray a little Hermés on it, bold is clean. And clean is good … I think.
I want to extend this invitation to you, so I can share my mind with you. How it works. Why it works the way it does. And present that to you through the artwork I create, and media that I find stimulating.