Calvin Love is striving to be a demigod of the highway. An artist driven by a vision that seems to haunt and seduce him. That could be the word. Seduction, as opposed to the banal force of production. People make music. The person reading this probably makes music. Or maybe some other kind of art. Who knows. For you, and for me, and for everyone lucky enough to be familiar with him, Calvin Love is the quintessential artist as inspiration. A person who peers into himself to reveal something about the world that might otherwise go unarmed, or perhaps merely felt and never properly articulated. I see Calvin at an intersection in every city on earth, unmasking the hidden wonder, the past as construed by movies and the archetypes that populate our minds. The hitchhiker.
The gentle, supple poet whose aim is to elucidate humanity for the weary denizens of the weary world. He proves that in the form of cartoon darkness, there is a reality beyond that which is fully amenable to basic speech, and so must be corralled in a blind faith in a palette. All great artwork depends on a palette, on the choices that one makes in pulling the shades of that palette into one’s control out of a sense of belief that I don’t understand. Watch videos of Calvin practicing. Go see his shows. He is a rare gift that more than so much of what we’re forced to consume offers a vision.