I’m posting a number of my sketches and paintings – just a few of dozens – of gymnasts that I created long ago (the early 90s up to the year 2000 or so). Back in the 80’s I got interested in the Olympics and several sports stuck with me, but perhaps most importantly was gymnastics.
As I grew up and my interest in art became central, I wanted to get a better understanding of the human form. In those days where I lived there were no life drawing classes or opportunities to really work from the figure at all. I recalled the definition of musculature and the examples of human movement that gymnastics afforded, and began to use them as my models to get a grasp of anatomy and an idea of how to depict the body in action.
The images below are some of my favorites. I’ll have to search for some more of them in my files. I know I’ve done at least a dozen works featuring the great Yelena Produnova alone. The ones shown below are (left to right, top to bottom) Adrienn Varga (Hungary), Mo Huilan (China), Produnova (Russia), Jeanette Antoni (USA), another Produnova, Vanessa Atler (USA), Shannon Miller (USA), and Kim Zmeskal (USA). I’ve got a bunch of autographs, but really like that I got my drawings of Miller and Zmeskal signed by each (Zmeskal wrote a really nice letter as well).
As a participant in the “gymnternet” back in the mid-90s, I bumped into a lot of people on a few message boards. In 1998, after messaging with Atler for a while, she sent me tickets to the National Championships in Indianapolis, IN that year. With questionable reasoning, I took a Greyhound bus from Utica, NY to Indy to attend the Championships and hang out with a bunch of people I’d only ever talked to in text on the internet. I ended up meeting Atler in person there, as well as a few other athletes. I also met the person who I’d eventually marry! Given all that I’ve gained from that trip, I’d say the payoff was pretty substantial.
Probably the biggest thing I ever did with my gymnastics artworks was having one shown at the International Olympic Committee’s Sport Art Competition Show at the International Olympic Museum, Lausanne, Switzerland (March – June, 2000). I haven’t laid eyes on that painting in over 25 years… I’ll have to dig it up sometime.
I still pay attention to gymnastics a bit and watch the main meets each year with my family. We also enjoyed watching the Mizzou (where I teach Drawing in The School of Visual Studies) gymnastics squad go on a good run the last couple of seasons. While I don’t really draw the athletes any more, the many hours of time I spent watching the sport and drawing from them gave me the chance to develop a strong sense of the human form. I credit much of my work in graduate school (Indiana University, 2005), where I focused on the body in tension, to my early studies of gymnasts. Also important were the many skills I developed in portraiture. In a sense, my current work for Mizzou Football has a root in these gymnastics artworks from so long ago.
In spite of the horrors going on all over the world, and the constant barrage of idiocy from our leaders, 2026 has been incredibly aesthetically nurturing for me. The roads, fields, night skies, rivers, and clouds of Missouri are rich in color and drama. I felt compelled to leave a few of these views here for posterity. I’m thankful to get to document some of these things, and for the potent experiences and joys that I get to share with my friends, students, kids, and fellow humans.
No trespassing sign off Rangeline Road north of Columbia, MO.
Field of purple flowers during a rainstorm. Near McBaine, south of Columbia.
An evening fire in my driveway. One of my favorite ways to spend an hour.
A tree grew around this fence post, enclosing it and carrying it along. Off Forum near the Katy Trail CoMo spur.
Sunlight shining between the two sides of the Providence Road bridge over Hinkson Creek south of the Mizzou football stadium.
Two views from a night drive with my good friend Jesse. These were south of Columbia on dirt roads near Cooper’s Landing.
Hinkson Creek near the Grindstone Natural Area in CoMo.
My son, Atticus, enjoying some river exploration in the Devil’s Icebox area south of CoMo.
Another road trip with Jesse to find some interesting shooting locations for his next film project. Near Wooldridge, MO.
Sunset views in Mid Missouri – left is on I70 facing west – right is off Scott Blvd facing southwest.
Atticus in the Devil’s Icebox cave area, looking up through one of the openings.
I’ve taken thousands of images so far this year. These are just a tiny sampling of my way of paying attention to what my eyes want to see. Many of the photos are just for documentation or to embrace the strange and wonderful things I see around me. I do try to refine some of them into artworks. I think we take for granted how ubiquitous and available photography is now, and most of us are very uneducated about how images work and whether what we are told are photographs are even real.
There’s a wonderful piece of writing by artist/writer/director Johannes Grenzfurthner over at Midwest Film Journal that talks about the importance of imagery that is established by the “physical trace” of real places, sights, and experiences. We now live in an era where images are being crafted “without physical reference.” Our job as embodied human beings is to be firmly committed to the fact of our physical existence. Photography – whether just snapshots, memory aides, documentation, or art – should be about OUR eyes, OUR living experiences. We should not give AI or tech bros authority over our vision of life.
Every year is an amalgamation of the years that came before. While there might be touchstones and specific events keyed to one year or another, no year can be entirely of itself. So some of what follows is tied to this past year, but some of it is from outside of that temporal container. Regardless, I wanted to make a few notes about what struck me and what stuck with me this year without a whole lot of thinking about ranking or hard and fast lists. It’s good to take stock and look back so that the turning to look forward can have some context.
At a great party with former students in Rocheport, MO.
100 Pounds Down
2025 is the year that I lost 100 pounds. On January 18, 2024, I was 291.6 lbs. Today, I’m 186.6lbs. This is a testament to medicine, determination, consistent workouts, and finding ways to manage my own instincts about food and drink and effort. But what changed in January 2024? Why do I think of that as the start of something new? That’s when I began to supplement my daily workouts, efforts to eat and sleep well, and overall stress-reduction with Zepbound.
What it did was take the edge off of my constant feeling of hunger… what many people describe as “food noise” in the mind. Zepbound was the little tweak that enabled me to no longer have an inner insistence that I endlessly had to fight. I felt satiated, FINALLY. My portion sizes went down. My need to just eat everything on the plate – or to have a double or triple portion – disappeared. All of that went away. It became much easier to control my desires in much the same way that antidepressants helped me focus on what was truly important for my family and for my life.
This tirzepatide medication enabled me to turn around years of baggage in my thinking and habitual activity. I was disciplined with working out for nearly a decade, but I still struggled with knowing that it was time to stop eating or drinking. With Zepbound, I was able to do what I needed to do and hear my inner rational voice about what was important. It has definitely been a life changer. My whole world is so much better. Without that extra 100 pounds everything – working out, teaching, playing with my kids – is so much easier and more fulfilling. My knees, ankles, and back feel DECADES younger.
In The Ear and Eye Holes
Another great aspect of 2025 was experiencing (or re-experiencing) some amazing podcasts and movies from a bit of a different perspective. One of the things that I did was watch a bunch of vampire movies with Miranda, my oldest daughter. Seeing those films again (starting back with the original 1922 Murnau Nosferatu and then watching the 1979 Werner Herzog Nosferatu, not to mention a half dozen others) was a unique and dynamic endeavor. It was wonderful to watch those monster and horror movies with Miranda (and sometimes some of her siblings), ask her about her interpretations, and explore how she was understanding all of it. I greatly enjoyed the Robert Eggers 2024 version as well (but I didn’t take my kid to watch that one).
Another powerful experience early in 2025 was when I watched a movie starring Amy Adams called NIGHTBITCH (2024). Based on the novel by Rachel Yoder, it’s “a magical realism-style story of a stay-at-home mom who sometimes transforms into a dog.” I encourage everyone to go watch it. It’s about embodiment, change, parenthood, meaning, self-actualization, and hope. Such a great movie. Amy Adams goes SO HARD in this film… an award-worthy performance.
Amy Adams in NIGHTBITCH
Movie Highlights: Watching The Shining with my kids and seeing Eggers’s Nosferatu in the theater with Jesse. Experiencing NIGHTBITCH on a whim.
In the podcast realm I enjoyed going back through the Futility Closet podcast episodes. This phenomenal podcast is no longer is being produced, but that doesn’t mean they’re out of date or stale. The married team of Sharon and Greg Ross made 365 episodes, then called it quits. The episodes are infinitely re-listenable, there are NO ADS, and the opportunity to be astounded by the world and get inspired to research events is just solid gold. I’m almost done with a full listen-though in 2025, and it was so worth it. Futility Closet really is a cohesive account of global culture and what we try to do as human beings. The writing and the presentation overall are very much accessible. This is not highfalutin fare. It’s not the multi-hour-long episodes of people like Dan Carlin, not a dry lecture about history. Futility Closet gives you tight 30-minute episodes that hit on the main takeaways. They give you the backbone, all the resources so you can look up more, and they’re just really personable, sweet people.
Music in 2025
My students get me hooked on so much good music. This year, these are the heavy-hitters that stuck in my studio rotation. I’m not ranking them, just telling you to get on the train and listen.
Ecca Vandal
Key: Band/Artist – My Suggested Description of Genre
One of my great joys is teaching. I love working with my students and seeing what they do when they graduate. In 2025 I saw one of my grads, Andrew Long, graduate with an amazing thesis exhibition and text, then immediately get a great job.
Me and Dr. Kerr at her retirement partyIn deep conversation with Andrew at a conference
Another transition was the amazing Dr. Barb Kerr retiring after nearly 50 years of teaching and scholarship. It was an honor to be at her celebration party. She’s been such a mentor and inspiration to me.
RIP Dad
My dad passed this year. He was 83. For years I wrote to him with photos and updates in physical letters… and now at least once a week I think “I should write to Dad” only to remember that he’s gone. I’m glad he lived on his terms and did just about everything he wanted to do and not much that he didn’t. And I’m glad I got to speak at his funeral and give him the send off he wanted.
Speaking at Dad’s burialOne of the final conversations we had
Thankfulness
One thing I’m taking away from 2025 is the understanding that I was able to have positive growth and a grateful mindset in my family, job, and art-making in spite of the horror show going on in the world. Straight up state-sponsored murder and genocidal activity on one hand, and obvious grift and obfuscation of the truth on the other, all wrapped up in nationalism and religion. It’s enough to put anyone into a high stress crash-out. But I’m thankful that I’ve been able to find a balance where I can be informed about that stuff and take steps to counter it in my own small ways (as a parent, educator, and community member) without letting it put me in the ground. In 2026 I want to keep living with hope and joy, not through some abstract pie-in-the-sky platitudes, but though real life with my family, honest interactions with my students and colleagues, and deep exploration of ideas and meaning in the things I read, watch, write, listen to, and make.
I think back to this show fondly because Jen is awesome and I like having exhibitions with former students (and have done so a number of times, with Jane, Jacob, and most recently with Simon). I took a bunch of images during the installation and recorded some audio of us talking about the work. After listening to it a couple months ago I decided I wanted to celebrate our little show and the work we made there.
I was making my An Ensign for Miyoko Ito series, and experimenting with drawing robots – at the time very cheap ones that couldn’t make very large pieces. I was taking cues from Ito’s works and, as a response to that, Jen decided to use my artworks as the basis for her pieces. Using my work to create tessellated fields of colorful geometry printed on fabric, she then sewed cutting patterns onto them. The notion of a interference pattern felt particularly resonant to the work we both made for the show. This layering of influences and predilections still feels rich to me, and I wanted to share them with everyone again. Thanks so much for doing this show with me, Jen! Though her MFA was in a Fibers focus, these days she does a lot of dynamic photography, mostly in black and white. Check it out here!
Below you can see some images from our installation session and my statement for the show, as well as see more work and hear us talk about it in the video here:
Statement for BALLOU/BENNETT: INTERFERENCE PATTERN
In my recent body of work, titled An Ensign for Miyoko Ito, I seek out the compacted and the overdrawn; the enclosed and the layered; the transformed and the solidified. I look for shapes, colors, and spaces that go far beyond a simple tension between figuration and abstraction, trying instead to suggest a layered arena of observational and haptic information.
Miyoko Ito (Japanese-American, 1918-1983) – whose work has been a key influence on me over the last 20 years – was able to activate subtle surfaces with the illusion of space and an evocative sense of palpability. This is what I’m investigating: the experience of perception apart from particular, representational depiction. In my exploration, questions arise: Does flat form appear to move away from my angle of view? Will color resolve into both static surface and suggested movement? Can space and color align to reinforce both static structure and an expression of time? Might the poetics of silent, unmoving images actually produce phenomena akin to those found in dreams, memories, ecstatic sensations, and atemporal musings?
By pairing my work with Jen’s extrapolations from that work, I hope to suggest the multiplicity of information that may be gathered from surface, color, and texture. She perceives something of Miyoko Ito through my translations. Beyond this, Jen’s artworks add other layers – of visual logic, of aesthetic influences, and of categories of understanding. In this modest exhibition, Jen and I participate in the ongoing interrogation of received knowledge and sensation.
Receiving anything – taking it into our mind and heart – always changes it. It is what it is and it is what we perceive it to be. We are forever adding our own unique inflection to the language of the world pouring into us. That is why I see my own proclivities in the shapes and patterns that Jen uses… and so I see my heroes, my influences, and my hopes there as well.
I’m pleased to announce the publication of a catalog about the exhibition that Simon Tatum and I had at Vanderbilt University last year. Working with Oswaldo Garcia at The Riso Room, housed within Mizzou’s School of Visual Studies, I was able to produce a slim volume that highlights some of the work and writing that Simon and I produced for this show. We hope to take the exhibition around to other venues, and these catalogs feel like a great physical supplement to proposals. Click below to take a look inside.
The images show representative examples of the work we include, as well as updated texts that give an overview of the history and context we’re working within. I’m excited by how the risograph process has captured the documentary quality of Simon’s work and the surface development of my own pieces. I love the way the back cover shows Donald Crowhurst’s final coda, “IT IS THE MERCY.” Taken from his logs, this is Crowhurst’s actual writing reproduced.
If you’re interested in obtaining a copy for $25, please send payment via one of the options below:
The beginning of the third week of the month was best, with some striking observations made possible with a short exposure time. Each night the viewing has been a little more difficult, and the tail a little shorter, so it may be beyond easy spotting very soon. It’s worth it, though. Once in a lifetime event here, folx.
I’ve gone out each night just to put my eyes on this ancient thing. Perspective is a quality that exhorts and propels the human heart. Seeing our conflicts and passions in the light of cosmic time and distance offers us the chance for true reflection.
One of the weirdest objects that used to exist in Columbia, Missouri is pictured below.
Benjamin Franklin in a tub shaped like a shoe, conducting a meeting, all the while stoking a fire beneath his own ass. Just look at it. AMAZING.
Sadly, the painting is now destroyed. I took pictures of it in 2013 when I did some art conservation work for Riback Pipe and Steel Company. The image below is a digital collage of shots because it was so hard to get the right angle on the work (there was a large, north-facing window opposite the painting.
My understanding is that the tub DID NOT ACTUALLY look like a slipper, but was what is called a “slipper tub” and was fairly common. I can find no reference to a tub shaped exactly like a shoe/slipper anywhere. I think Larson was taking some creative license here.
“France, Late 18th Century” by Sidney Larson
Missouri painter Sidney Larson completed this painting entitled “France, Late 18th Century” in 1969 as part of the “The Riback Mural,” commissioned by Harold H. Riback for the Riback Pipe and Steel Company building, which is situated at the east end of Business Loop 70 in Columbia, Missouri.
The Ribacks sold the business to Plumb Supply Company in 2015. Eventually, the building housing the mural was remodeled and the paintings were destroyed. According to the State Historical Society of Missouri’s Art Collections Manager Greig Thompson, the mural couldn’t be preserved due to the methods by which it was installed.
Notley Hawkins took photographs of the mural in December 2021, at the request of Vicky Riback-Wilson to preserve a record of the paintings. Hawkins studied painting and drawing with Sidney Larson at Columbia College in the 1980s.
In 1980, Larson published a booklet entitled “The Riback Mural” which included the following description of painting:
“Benjamin Franklin landed in France in December of 1776 and soon after set up quarters at Passy outside of Paris. His purpose was to solicit aid from the French toward the defeat of the British during the American Revolution. He proved to be a very popular man and was in great demand. He did suffer from attacks of gout for which his doctor recommended hot baths. For this, Franklin had the slipper tub, pictured above, built for him. He took hot baths twice a week, each one lasting as long as two hours. Hence the occasional meeting held while in his tub.”
Top left quarter: Marie Antoinette prior to losing her head. Top right quarter: Empress Josephine looking a bit like “The Death of Marat” in her bath. Bottom half: Franklin taking a meeting in the shoe tub. So weird.
Since 2019 I’ve worked as a portrait painter celebrating Mizzou student athletes. This last year was a high mark for Mizzou Football, with four of the squad being named All-American.
The University has a posh facility located in the south end zone area of the stadium where they hang all of the All-American portraits, stretching back into the 1930s. The great illustrator Ted Watts (1942-2015) created most of the portraits over the course of more than three decades, so I’ve got a big act to follow.
The All-American portrait wall at Mizzou Football’s South End Zone facility.
The display is pretty cool, and it’s cool to have my work extend that tradition. Portraits of Kentrell Brothers and Harrison Mevis are two of my works currently on display, and four new ones will appear soon (Fall 2024).
When I began to create my paintings, I went on a tour to see the previous works up close and to evaluate the aesthetic through-lines (format of names, dates, poses, backgrounds, etc), as well as the techniques prior artists used.
I take a central role in the design process, creating digital mockups which are approved at Mizzou Football before I begin the paintings. I generally work with ink on paper, which is mounted on panel and sealed, then painted over with layers of acrylic. I try to maintain a painterly quality, with texture and dynamic brushwork on display. I also attempt to bring the digital effects which naturally appear in the preliminary studies into a physical realm with semi-transparent washes of paint.
Working on the portrait of Cody Schrader.
As the projects have developed I’ve found my own approach to the portraits. I want them to have kinship with the portraits of Watts and other previous artists, but I make sure to give the works my own unique inflection.
I’m excited for the new crop to go on display. Kris Abrams-Draine, Luther Burden III, Javon Foster, and Cody Schrader are the 2023 All-Americans for Mizzou Football. See images of the works below, but also be sure to stop by the All-American wall if you ever get into the South End Zone building!
MF DOOM (keep caps on that name!) was a highly skilled and influential British rapper. Throughout the years, fans have been drawn to creating various artistic interpretations of his famous mask, behind which the artist almost always appeared/performed.
My good friend Jesse Slade, proprietor of KING THEODORE RECORDS, got me more interested in MF DOOM years ago. I’ve created representations of the mask in the past for illustrations/artworks using in Jesse’s record shop, but I wanted to make a move into a Lego version (or two) after I saw some folx creating them online.
Shout out to The Canvas Don and u/vonaudy for their versions of a building block/Lego MF DOOM mask. Both are awesome. I also like the “blockheadz” versions here and here. These examples served as inspirations, but mostly I just played around with what I’ve got in the old Lego vault.
I created the two versions below in standard light blue-gray, dark gray, and white, but then spray painted them with a chrome silver for proper effect. Take a look and enjoy. The smaller one is 4x5x2 inches and the larger is 5x6x2.5 inches.
Smaller MF DOOM Lego Mask. Click to see larger versions.
Larger MF DOOM Lego Mask. Click to see larger versions.
Recently I rotated a bunch of the art in our home, and so I felt that an update to my ongoing series of posts featuring various artworks I’ve collected over the years was in order.
My most recent purchase is this wonderful gouache painting on handmade paper by Mary Sandbothe.
Mary Sandbothe. Mystery Snowball. Gouache on handmade paper. 7×5 inches. 2023.
Mary is an awesome artist and educator here in Columbia, MO, and has been a pillar of the art community here for many years. She had a wonderful show at the Columbia Art League late in 2023 that really stood out to me. Called “Heritage Unfolded: Gouache Interpretations of Missouri Quilts,” (you can see the works here), the show featured some evocative, intimate works. I knew I needed to jump on one of them, and I’m glad I did.
Next to the Sandbothe Mystery Snowball piece is a striking print on handmade Yucca paper by Caleb McMurray. The untitled work features a doorway or aperture, something that McMurray has returned to again and again.
I also have a sister print to this one, but it features an arching opening that is in the distance rather than up close like this one. Windows, doors, and other passageways are features of many of the works I’ve collected over the years.
Lastly, a small painting by Hayley Auxier‘s shares the wall with the two works I’ve shared above. Hayley was one of my stand out undergraduate students, and I love seeing her carry on her artwork as she has since graduating. This piece is one of a series she made celebrating National Parks and celebrating her experiences of them. Hayley shows a strong affinity for gouache, so I’m glad to have an example of her painting in that medium.
Hayley Auxier. Acadia National Park. Gouache on paper. 4 by 6 inches. 2018.
Acadia National Park is special to me because that’s where my partner and I went on our honeymoon all those years ago, so I like the piece because of it’s connection to my own history. But it’s also got a wonderful note from Hayley on the verso, and so the small work feels like it connects all of these different threads of my life: personal, professional, aspirational, and historical. That synergy of references – those that I bring to the work and those the artist embeds within the piece – is what makes art special.
I’m loving seeing these three works every day as I have a meal or hang out with my family. Art that lives with us is the best kind. Really thankful to have these pieces close to me.
eikonktizo 