Were you looking for a sign? Here's a sandwich.

The Sandwich Dream

I was talking with a friend about how hard it is to do creative work and make yourself vulnerable by showing your work to the world. My friend said they’d gotten to where they couldn’t make anything for fear of other people thinking it was crap. I sympathized with my friend and said, here’s a symbol in the form of a sandwich. The sandwich was a big juicy corned beef thing on rye with pickles and mustard, a real five-napkin event. I pushed it toward my friend and told them it was okay to eat. They dove in with both hands and open mouth.

My friend was so hungry, and the sandwich was right there. They were just waiting for permission to eat.

End of Sandwich Dream

So if you’re wondering whether you should make / say / do / dance / sing / try the thing because you’re worried people might think it’s crap, here’s a sandwich. You have permission to eat it.

It comes with a pickle.

Can we make the sandwich a symbol for permission to create? It is written. So it must be.

Here’s a bunch more sandwiches. (images linked to sources where available)

p.s. The Cube Rule of sandwich identification

Still Life Paintings at Magnolias

Manhattan. Acrylic on unstretched canvas, 30 x 30 inches, 2015 by Sarah Atlee. $1,800 For purchase inquiries, contact Ro2 Art at (214) 803 9597 or visit this piece on Artsy.

Are you in or about Dallas, looking for the perfect cup of coffee? Look no further than Magnolias Sous le Pont. And while you're there, enjoy a gathering of succulent still life paintings by Sarah Atlee!

Put this on your calendar for next year (and every year): September 29 is National Coffee Day. Magnolias celebrated this year with a day of music, art, and endless cups of that heavenly brown nectar. They were also nice enough to interview me about my work and process.

Still Life will be up at Magnolias (map link) through 7 January 2017.

Sushi Sampler

Sushi Sampler. Acrylic on canvas, 24 x 24 inches, 2016 by Sarah Atlee. $910 For purchase inquiries, contact Cerulean Gallery at 214.564.1199.

This post first appeared on my Patreon page.

About the Glitch Series

In the Glitch series, I use vibrant acrylic paintings to reimagine traditional still lifes for the digital age. My recent compositions combine tempting, succulent foods with "glitches" painted directly onto the canvas. An avocado is interrupted by the irregular curves of a cracked screen. The natural beauty of an heirloom tomato is marred by low-resolution errors and broken pixels.

Historically, still life paintings are windows onto impossibly perfect worlds. This illusion of perfection continues into our daily lives on the Internet, as we live from one Insta-worthy moment to another. Why not use the flaws of online technology to break into that illusion?

Last week to see the show!

Sushi Sampler is available at Cerulean Gallery as part of the exhibition On Edge Part I, featuring work by Sarah Atlee, Fritz Danner, Nic Noblique, and Victoria Taylor-Gore, on display 16 September – 28 October 2016. Visit Cerulean Gallery to learn more.

Avocado: Cracked

Avocado: Cracked Acrylic on canvas, 18 x 18 inches, 2016 by Sarah Atlee. $910 For purchase inquiries, contact Cerulean Gallery at 214.564.1199.

This post first appeared on my Patreon page.

Okay, show of hands: Who's reading this on a cracked screen?

We've probably all been there, felt the cold pit in our stomachs as we realize a careless moment has just sent our hard-earned cash down the drain (in the form of a gadget). It sucks.

But there's an upside.

Have you ever looked at the fascinating patterns and semi-random (but beautiful) shapes created when an LCD screen breaks? A little Google Images search will show you what I mean.

I applied this same concept to the Tamales painting, with a slight difference in technique. Often when I'm painting stripes or other strict geometric shapes, I'll employ masking tape and clear acrylic medium to attain those precise edges. With Avocado, however, I decided to paint the stripes in by hand.

The process required a steadier hand, but I found it delightfully meditative and spontaneous. I love the spots where one area of wet paint bled into another, or where my hand shook just a little. I left these "mistakes" in because I never want you to forget that you're looking at a painting.

Every avocado has its own unique shape and texture. Every hand draws a line a little differently from all the other hands in the world.

Avocado: Cracked is available at Cerulean Gallery as part of the exhibition On Edge Part I, featuring work by Sarah Atlee, Fritz Danner, Nic Noblique, and Victoria Taylor-Gore, on display 16 September – 28 October 2016. Visit Cerulean Gallery to learn more.

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All Roads Lead Home

Turn Left for Tamales Acrylic on canvas, 20 x 20 inches, 2016 by Sarah Atlee. $1,080 For purchase inquiries, contact Cerulean Gallery at 214.564.1199.

This post also appears on my Patreon page.

I would like to thank the fine folks at Cerulean Gallery for hosting my paintings these last few weeks; I'm honored to be working with you. I would also like to thank my Patreon patrons for your ongoing support - you guys are the best!

Want to get art in the mail? Here's where you go for that.

Home. It's a nebulous concept. Is it the place you're from? Where you live now? Some intangible combination of everywhere you've been?

I grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico. They don't call it the Land of Enchantment for nothing; it's a place that stays with you. And nothing tells you that you've come back quite like a plate of hot, home-cooked tamales.

Turn Left for Tamales is inspired by the food I ate last time I was at Ghost Ranch, another one of those places that really gets into you. Just like our memories, the image is fragmented, distorted, seems to bleed around the edges. Like the idea of home.

I'm living in a different place than I was when I started the Glitch series. I'm in Oklahoma now, the place where I was born, the place where I will always be able to go. I didn't know how much it would feel like home until I came back. I don't know what home is right now. I'm looking for it inside myself. But I know I'm on the right road. I can smell the tamales.

Turn Left for Tamales is available at Cerulean Gallery as part of the exhibition On Edge Part I, featuring work by Sarah Atlee, Fritz Danner, Nic Noblique, and Victoria Taylor-Gore, on display 16 September – 28 October 2016. Visit Cerulean Gallery to learn more.