The Lardner Report

Unleash your creative superpowers!

Age Before Beauty — Duh!

by

(Pic #1) Side panel of 1941 Mack Fire truck. Saticoy, California

Confession: I’m kind of a junkyard junkie.

Not sure that’s a thing — but I love the mix of rusting old metal, peeling paint, and layers of decay. I know, you really want to say, “Lon, get a life.”

Well, check out this formerly red, classic 1941 Mack pumper truck I found in Saticoy, California. It sits in a salvage yard I like to visit for artistic inspiration. (And often, I incorporate these discoveries into my creativity workshops for Fortune 500 executives.) Art is in fact everywhere, if you are willing to look beyond.

These colorful, textured images — with their own preordained compositions — represent 80 years of extreme Southern California heat, and perhaps unintended neglect. But weathering brings new life — in the form of unpredictable art. These abstractions are just as exciting to me as a Rothko or Rousseau — just as visually stimulating, and way more accessible.

Why Urban Decay Is My Jam

by

Confession: I slam on the brakes and jump out of the car to capture the detritus of life.

It’s the dirty, weather-beaten, peeling surfaces of walls and structures in any large city. You typically won’t find these textures in the fancy parts of town, so that’s why I like to take detours and longer ways home. Some of these moments end up on canvas, some find their way onto the hand-painted jackets in our new “Urban Artwear” collection.

It might just be a simple combination of colors…sometimes it’s just erosion, but most of the time it inspires an idea — or series of ideas — for some funk-ass abstract art.

(Pic #2) Ventura, Cal.

(Pic #3) San Pedro, Cal.

(Pic #4) Los Angeles, Cal.

(Pic #5) Oxnard, Cal.

Just Take A Spin — Find Unexpected Art

by

(Pic #1) Facing South, Westlake Village, Cali. (Photo by Josh Kaplan)

(Pic #2) Facing North, Westlake Village, Cali. (Photo by Josh Kaplan)

These two shots were taken from exactly the same spot: in the middle of a field in Westlake Village. Josh stopped to grab the image of the sprawling bougainvillea, and when doing an about face, discovered the wispy tendrils of the dry brush. Kind of a double gift: twice the art — with the effort of one.

So I’m making it a point to take my 180 and find the opposing view. A bonus for staying open to all angles. The life lesson metaphor is not lost on me.