On Patreon: “It’s nice to post content for people who are actually engaging with it, not just scrolling through a bunch of ads,” Furie said. “I hate Instagram but love being able to share my art, it’s the most rewarding. It’s a way to share a window into my art/process without all the negativity from casual observers looking for trolls and intrusive advertising. I have nine followers and they are all great!”
Fury’s voluntary withdrawal from social media stems not only from his experiences over the past decade, but also from some recent reading. I asked him about a Patreon post in which he said social media hates our souls. This is actually a quote. When asked about background and how quitting Instagram, Facebook and other platforms has impacted his work, he offered this: “The last argument in Jaron Lanier’s Ten Arguments to Delete Your Social Media Accounts Right Now is titled ‘Social Media Hates Your Soul,'” Furie said. “I recommend it to anyone who wants to escape the compulsive pull of endless likes, shares and selfies. My art practice has been compulsive my whole life, so it hasn’t changed. I do it for myself and leave my mark before I die, for the long haul.”
I am constantly battling my inner child, my inner teen angst, and my inner search for peace and love. This is the holy trinity of my artistic practice. “
Whether it’s his gallery, commercial work or his 2013 children’s book Nightcrawler, Furie’s attraction to anthropomorphic characters has always been there. His vibrant monsters have been placed on walls across the country in exhibitions at Left Field Gallery in Los Osos, Thank You Gallery in Norfolk, Virginia, and other venues. The remaining members of the Boys Club—Andy, Brett, and Rand Wolf—still have the occasional comedic adventure. (Pepe was killed by Furie in 2017.) Recent work is more psychedelic than ever, with spiraling, crowded pages carrying his layered characters. It seems that these types of characters—whether paintings, black comic boxes, or animations—are Furie’s primary outlet for expression.
His love of giving human characteristics to wild or mythical creatures was an appeal long before thrift stores cataloged dolls and action figures: “Children have an innate connection with animals and an inspiring curiosity,” says Forrier. “I constantly struggle with my inner child, my inner teen angst, and my inner quest for peace and love. This is the holy trinity of my artistic practice. Anthropomorphic animals and ragdoll-like creatures have the advantage of transcending race and resonating with more people. Additionally, , making shit up is also fun – drawing fur, feathers, scales, teeth, eyeballs and melted blobs, spikes stinging and slime dripping. I’m a human being, but I feel connected to all things wild, and the desire for wildness and personification is my way of expressing that.”
The connection between childhood and his characters seems most evident in Nightcrawler. In this gorgeous, wordless story, a frog and a mouse go on a nocturnal adventure together, culminating in a group of nocturnal animals enjoying the sunrise together. When we spoke, it had been seven years since its release, but I wondered if he’d ever considered returning to the format after everything that’s happened. Coincidentally, he had just spoken to McSweeney’s, the publisher of Nightcrawler, about doing so. While he’s still in the planning stages, he said: “It was actually inspired by Jaron Lanier, the writer and tech philosopher I mentioned[before]. He described the early days of virtual reality with such awe and brilliance that, like crystalline glowing insect creatures crawling on the clouds, it was a window into a 3D world of imagination and fantasy. I wanted to write the story of a little girl who wears a series of masks that take her from a gray world into the fantasy world of the Wizard of Oz…still figuring it out.”
“There’s no real goal. I like to think it gets better as I get older…”
A line from Lanier’s 1996 work seems to be related to Furie Consistent attitude towards humanity in general: “We should think of computers as fancy phones whose purpose is to connect people. Information is alienated experience. Information is not something that exists. In fact, computers don’t really exist, to be precise, they are just subject to human interpretation. This is a strong, basic humanism that I advocate. All our computer-related work will be worthwhile and beautiful as long as we remember that we ourselves are the source of our value, creativity, and sense of reality.”
In addition to the early stages of Lanier’s project, he collaborated with peers Skinner and Will Sweeney on a book inspired by Charles Burns and Gary Painter’s Facetasm, a collection of artist-drawn split faces that could be reconfigured into more than seven thousand “possible mutations.” Furie has collaborated with various artists over the years, including Albert Reyes, animator Joseph Bennett and his wife Aiyana Udesen. (On the Skinner and Sweeney projects: “It’s fun to collaborate with friends and do new projects with people I admire,” he adds. “It’s a good way to mix it up.”) Facetasm, released in 1997, was a continuation of the monster books from decades earlier and was a way for kids to tap into the wild imaginations of these artists and create their own beasts. Having three artists like this on this new project promises thousands of configurations and (considering the creators) truly crazy results.
The idea of creating something new brings me to the last question I want to ask Furie, one I hesitate to ask but feel is key as the artist moves on after the major documentary about his experience with Pepe the Frog. I wanted to understand the process of creating new faces that might have been taken away from him. He’s been creating so many new characters, but has this journey made him more protective of his creatures? Or maybe he feels more distant from them to protect himself? As with other parts of our discussion, he approached it with self-awareness and empathy.
“I’m a collector by nature and I’m glad we live in a world of abundance,” Faury replied. “Creating new characters is a way for me to collect ‘stuff’ without having to collect actual physical objects. Drawing is an exercise: there is no real goal. I like to think that it gets better and better as I get older. I listen to music, and pop music seems to have a ‘peak’. Artist Da To the top, and then downhill. To answer the question, I’m not really interested in “protecting” my character. I’m already struck by lightning, so I’m safe.”
We hope so. *
This article originally appeared in High Fructose Issue 57, which is now sold out. Support what we do and subscribe to New High Fructose here. Thank you for reading our article!
