Lucky 13: INTERVIEW: MIKE EGAN - ARTIST

Mike Egan - Artist, from Pittsburgh, Pa. Has worked in funeral homes for the last several years. His Artwork tends to deal with life, death and religion. Mike shows us the light through darkness. Paying respect to folk- style inspirations while giving us a new heartfelt view into his world of first hello's and last goodbyes. His work is already inspiring tattoos and the future holds great things as we sink deeper into the core of his mind and view the portraits of his soul.


GOODWINTER:First, tell us a little about yourself, where you grew up and how and when did you become interested in art?
MIKE EGAN: I live and grew up in Moon Township which is just outside of
Pittsburgh, PA. I started drawing in kindergarten, so I was like 6 or 7 at the time.

GW: who are some other artists you enjoy?
EG: I love The Date Farmers, Neckface, Margaret Kilgallen, The Clayton
Brothers, Richard Colman, Ben and Andy Kehoe, Rob Larson,
Joe Bruce, ThinkMule, Fred Stonehouse, the list goes on and
on...

GW: does music play a roll in your paintings? Do you listen while you paint? Could you give us a play list or bands you are currently playing?.
ME: Yes, I love music!!! I listen to all types of music when I paint, here is what I've been
listening to:
And you will know us by the trail of dead
Murder city devils
Chuck Ragan
The Chariot
Handsome Furs
Banner Pilot
Aesop Rock
Band of Horses
The Walkmen
Girl Talk


GW: do you believe in an afterlife?
ME: I believe in Heaven and Hell, however I believe in ghosts
too.

GW: Tell us about Pittsburgh, the town where you live and how it's influenced your art?
ME:Pittsburgh is the best, the people of this city are very hard working. There are a lot
of working class neighborhoods and a lot of different ethnicity. Pittsburgh is loaded with old churches, bars and funeral homes, which all influence my work. Oh and our
football team is pretty sweet too!!!! * 2008-9 Super Bowl Champions *

GW: What was your favorite Halloween costume as a kid?
ME: I always loved the classics, Skeletons and Devils.

GW: Tell us a movie that almost everyone you know has seen but you havent?
ME:I hate to admit this but I never sat down and watched The Godfather.
How embarrassing....

GW: What are some of your favorite horror films?
ME: Oh boy...I love Friday the 13th, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw
Massacre, Evil Dead, Devil's Rejects, etc.

GW: have you ever seen a ghost?
ME: Never saw one, but certainly heard some noises when I worked in funeral homes.

GW: It's just around corner so I have to ask, St. Patricks day what do you do? and why I haven't seen any lucky shamrocks in your work yet?.
ME: I'm working on it!! I usually go out for a few pints of Guiness with my friends.

GW: If you were to look for the ultimate of inspiration and you could go anywhere. where would you choose to go?
ME: Honestly, I would go to a nice quiet beach where no one would bother me so I could sit and work.

GW:What character from the Wizard of Oz do you most identify with?
ME:The dog, I don't really like to talk much.

GW: you've said: "I like to think that each painting is in some way a good bye to somebody who passed away. A funeral portrait." What was your art like before working in Funeral homes? And who would you like to paint your funeral portrait?
ME: My work has always had a dark theme running through it. The only
thing that is different is that I'm a better artist now. I look at my old stuff and I'm not too sure what I was thinking. I would definitely have The Clayton Brothers do my portrait.


GW: Tell us about the symbols and numbers used in your paintings?
ME: Well I use the number 77 because I was born in 1977. It's my way of putting myself in the paintings. I'll use 7s for good luck and 13s for bad luck. I also like to use tons of crosses as a form of protection.

GW: most prized possession?
ME: Um...I would say old photographs of my family.

GW: What's your biggest fear?
ME: That I will fail as an artist, people will stop showing interest in my work.

GW: Tell us what drives you crazy?
ME: Women!!!

GW: I easily envision your work as stained-glass pieces- in what other ways has the Church influenced your work? And would you ever consider a collaboration with a stained-glass artist?
ME: I love religious artwork and going into old churches. Working with a stained glass artist would be great, I'd love to do that!!

GW: In what direction are you heading with your art, where are you taking it?
ME: I'd like to work on different wooden boxes, do more woodcut prints and work on doing some t-shirts.

GW: Tell me a secret?
ME: I'm standing behind you right now.

Like it? Show your support. info on paintings and current shows:
eganpaintingsFlickr
eganpaintings

and so i will watch you from afar

Pretty girls make graves. It was playing on the radio by her bed. Autumn- leaves burnt brown and orange falling through an open window. She told me she cut into her skin to feel something. i wanted to make her feel that something. I laid beside her watching her bleed. I found her funny and overly dramatic. we stayed up late. let me put a band-aid on it. let me fix you. I'd say.
I slept over almost every Friday and it was inevitable she would get up to pee or go flip over the mix-tape an bang her toe on the night-stand. Every Time.
I loved her little voice, her big profanities in the darkness.
fuck- fuck- fuckity face fuck. Christian stop laughing i know you're fuckin laughing it's not fucking funny.
Pressing a pillow to my face i'd say-
nu nu I swar im nut..mrph..mprh.
Her dirty mouth.

We were to young she said but, i would have married her that night. I asked. She told me I was silly and sweet and I wasn't the girl you marry. I'm the girl to put you in your place

I would have driven you anywhere. I would have taken my car and crashed us into a guard rail or into the deepest lake. I would sank to the bottom for her. I did. I wanted her to feel me. my words caressing her rusty mind. my body pressing against her body. alive or lifeless. Feel something, even if it be our dying moment.

I kissed her scars and mouth like it was our last kiss. she played along so sweet. she let me touch everything deep. it was only when i reached for her heart that she would flinch. grabbing my hand and whispering. NOT there.

She let me as hard and as long and as violently as I wanted, as I needed. I needed it. the feeling of something too. i loved her like it was my last love and maybe it was..... she ruined me for everyone else. Everyone has someone like that.

No pictures

there was blood on the white tile floor. smeared along the base-board- up the wall. I thought.. Oh no...and wondered if it was the rain cloud. Friday. this bad luck. the 13th. how does one get to believe in such things?
I arrived to work and there was glass from the front office door everywhere. exploded by a brick that lay near by. We have an alarm. it was still armed. Don't ask me how that happens. Glass and blood on the floor. Don't ask me why it's worth it. I know things are tough out there. I'm not blind. the sense of doom in the air with the gas prices and all the other shit. you can feel it. I know 4 people who have been robbed in the last month. people who have jobs and are trying to make money. to get by. Blood.Good it hurt a little. If it's worth it. It should. It does.
now what's missing?. secretary doesn't have a computer or monitor any longer. drawer open. no more stamps either. no boom-box to listen to her country music, no little desk fan that used to blow on her face, no company cell-phone. But the chinese lucky-cat I put up on the counter for good-luck is still there. You don't fuck with luck-cat. He saw who did it. cursed is what i say. if you believe in such things.
nothing taken from my office or anything from the warehouse. a smash and grab.
Do I consider myself lucky? Is this what I do?.
It is what I do. Everything that happens to me is the best possible thing that can happen to me.
I've practiced living that for months now. For the rest of my life. The blood, a little revenge.

Police came, dusted for prints. Door is ply-wood for now. Glass is on order. Security sensors added. Clean the floor. clean the stains. everything keeps going. everyone keeps going. I keep going. I keep dreaming. I keep waking up.
Everyday. Coming back for more.
coming for you.

art by:
1. Mike Egan
2. James Jean

in the ditch

we laid together
talking about the stars, talking about summers when our parents would take us camping.
she told me about the boys she met along the way, and I told her stories about girls. kisses, stars, arcades, night-swimming, churches, carnivals. how everyone seemed friendlier than in our own home-towns. how she used to count the days until school started again, and how I didn't.

her parents dragged her out west to camp out in Texas, Utah, Arizona.
I went to Carolina, Virginia, and Rhode Island. those highways, and back-roads, pork n beans, sleeping bags, rivers, mountains, and streams. flat tires, southern drawls, country music fading in and out of radio static.

I said we should go somewhere. right now!. we should take our sleeping bags and let's hop in my truck.
and she said, yeah, with the g.p.s, mp3 players, bbq, wifi, hifi, beer, wine, and fishing poles. Then drive right up to the hotel and.......she's kinda funny
sometimes.

and then touching me, through the darkness
saving me the trouble of hiding
my insecurities,
she tells me I'm pretty, feels for my bruised knuckles-(another story). my hands are warm. then she asks,
"have you ever gotten your hands dirty?"
I reached out, touching her throat.
is this dirty
enough.

she enjoys the smell of smoke. camp- fire. the way her Dad made her hot-dogs. overcooked and a little black. just how she liked them. now she doesn't even eat meat. but they make those vegetarian ones. I try to make them the same. she says to me..."make them how i like Daddy.

I tell her about the lake I used to swim in. There was a rope-swing. I'd climb high using the wood pegs someone had nailed into the tree. Then swing out and drop into the murky water. I was afraid of alligators. would one be waiting for me on the bottom?. waiting to sink those teeth in into my flesh. thrash me around , tear me open, pull me under. I thought of all this while still in the air. waiting for the fall. willing myself to freeze time so I'd be suspended above the water. I thought about not letting go of the rope. Knowing if i did that, I'd swing back and hit the tree real hard. The other kids waiting a turn would laugh and call me names. I'd hit the tree with a thud and just slide down with my breath knocked out of me. Id fall into the shallow bank of dirty water anyway. I know. because I saw it happen to another kid. what was i more afraid of?. what the hell are we all afraid of? being laughed at or being bitten in half by a gator.

what you have to do is, find out on your own that the fall isn't so bad. sometime- you just have to. you hit the water and feel that rush. how it's cool and tingly on your skin. for however long it lasts. it's worth it. like that first sip of an ice cold beer. like playing hank williams after your girl-friend dumps you. it might hurt you a little bit, but in the end it's worth it.
is it? you have to let go off the rope and hope for the best. every-one is watching. you get the big splash and the sink to near bottom. It could be spectacular. It could be tragic. regardless. odds are you don't die. not yet. It's harder than you think to die. broken hearts don't kill you, being a fool, mistakes. on the outside, at least. you are okay.
you know how I dream of tornadoes?
sometimes,
I dream about alligators too.

1. art:
Mike Egan
photos:
2.heliumglow
3. unknown
4.cloud-room