Cans of Fire

ACA's 35th Annual University Student Exhibition + Weird Science

I used to tell myself, "Do it for the story."

Experience uncertainty. See what happens. You might get a good story out of it.

I've indulged countless encounters with the understanding I was putting my life in unknown territory just so I could live to tell about it later. I've written and drawn comic book stories and written scenes in plays by turning real life into art. You need to experience life in order to impart it. Question it. Comment on it. And sometimes it comes with a nugget of wisdom.

I've helped people in need. I've deescalated confrontations. I've spoken up. I've gotten into trouble.

Navigating humanity is a tricky and potentially dangerous proposition. When I'm confronted with violence, I don't know how to fight. My bark is bigger than my bite. I'm more emotional than smart when it comes to being rational. When it comes to my mortality.

Just recently I told my girlfriend that I was going to take the subway into the city (rather than bike) and she warned me to be extra careful. As if I were a soldier going to war. This kind of concern is more true than ever before. NYC public transportation is out of control. The wild west. Just the other day my local news station reported about a man in the subway throwing cans of fire at people.

CANS OF FIRE.

A recent series of small aggression's started to aggravate me more than usual. And rather than say something or do something about it, I was advised by several close friends to simply remove myself from potential conflict.

A drunk guy drinking a tall boy of beer, spewing spit and gibberish on me and my friend?

Get up and move.

A dude vaping a few feet from me, exhaling chemical fog into my olfactory?

Get up and move.

A mentally unstable person lashing out, causing fear and upset?

Get up and move.

I pay my fare but it doesn't come with common courtesy. It doesn't come with health insurance. It doesn't come with a guarantee of getting from A to B.

Where I used to indulge unknown situations for the story, I no longer care about THAT kind of the story. Especially if that kind of story might be my last story.

As a two-time mentoring artist at The Atlantic Center for the Arts, I was granted the responsibility and honor of choosing five emerging artists to exhibit at the 35th Annual University Student Exhibition in New Smyrna Beach, Florida, from May 17 - June 21, 2024.

It features the art of Camilla Byrd (University of South Florida), Yusef Fageeh (University of Central Florida), Noah Holder (University of Florida), Ophelia Zady (University of Central Florida), and Jeneice Ware (University of Florida). 

I was asked to provide a juror statement for submitting artists. After I introduced myself and my creative journey, I tried to spark a fire. A standard I hold myself accountable to:

“Make something that means something. Something that excavates the emotional truths. I like to be provoked and possibly educated while being entertained. Don't be shy to take big swings. To cringe yet giggle when you realize what you've just made. Go big or go home.”

Suffice it to say, they went big.

My new comic book, THE RED HOOK x DEAN HASPIEL is at the printer and physical copies should be in my hands in a week or so. I’m currently drawing Red Hook portraits and making Invisible Light prints for backers. Once I’ve mailed out all the rewards, I’ll make the comic available for sale to all y’all who missed the crowdfund campaign.

Meanwhile, I dealt with a computer meltdown that took up way too much emotional real estate (big ups to Larry and Corey for their generous help and dedication getting me back up to speed). I know it’s cliche to say but I cannot believe how attached I am (we are) to technology. So much so, that when tech goes Bzzrk — I go full caveman.

Apropos to my computer woes, I wrote about one of my favorite movies, John Hughes’ WEIRD SCIENCE, for HiLobrow editor Joshua Glenn’s Repo Your Enthusiasm — a series of 25 enthusiastic posts contributed by friends and regulars on the topic of “offbeat” movies from the Eighties (1984–1993).

Despite an existential crisis, I managed to turn 57 last week where I spent the day outside on the waterfront with friends and ate Yemeni cuisine for dinner. Speaking of outside: we’re about to move studios from a windowless room to a room with a view of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.

Let there be light!

—Dean

Instagram / Twitter / Website/Blog / Nightwork Studio / Etsy