T H E P E N D L ET O N H O U S E

1X1 SAM WHALEN K E ATO N P O G U E B AY L E E D R E W R E Y N O L D S S A M W AY JOE CUMMINGS FIRST LADIES C H R I S TO P H E R W A L S H ALEXANDRA MARICICH R O S E M A RY M C G E A DY CHELSEA RODINO NKO T ROY A YA L A C A R L L AW R E N C E BENJAMIN MARX T Y L E R C O R AY TOBY WARREN CONTACT: the.pendleton.house@gmail.com thependletonhouse.tumblr.com thependletonhouse.com

Where were you born? Troy, NY How long have you lived in Seattle? 5 years When did you start pursuing art? When I was 17 years old, and then again when I was 20. Who initially influenced you? The Spice Girls, The Rugrats. At what point did you consider yourself a professional artist? Middle of Senior year (2012). Current state of mind? A little iritated/sleepy/ sort of sedated. Why do you live? My Dad, instinct, bacon egg and cheese biscuits. How would you like to die? Suddenly or without warning. My art does have a mind of its own sometimes. When are you most confused? When I dont trust my instincts, when I have to do quick math in my head, when Im physically lost.

What does your art feel like? sticky. Im scared of getting HIV, falling/jumping off a bridge, live crabs, getting a disease, being unintentionally douchy Pop Culture Icon? Dolly Parton//Kanye West I cant stand people who dont use turn signals or correct you before you finish the sentence. Do you miss being a kid or do you crave adulthood? When I was a kid, I wanted to be older and now as an adult I want a little of both-the best of both worlds. Im working on new paintings, headstands, patience, compassion, cleaning out all my kitchen cabinets, finding more work. Next six months? IDK and Im coming to terms with that. Santa Fe, NM, turning 23 (nobody loves you when youre 23, right?), maybe making more crafts.

A self described ex-thumbsucker whose business card reads: psychic and mystic is definitely worth your notice. Sam, among many things, is an artist working within the realms of painting, performance art, mixed media, and curating. Before she heads out of town for Santa Fe, we brought Sam in to be our first artist featured in our interview web series called #x#. We enjoyed our time with her so much we thought we would share more with you here. To see the complete interview visit thependletonhouse.com More of all things Sam can be found at samwhalen.com

KATE 2 - SAM WHALEN

BABY THINKIN OF YOU - SAM WHALEN

TWO IN THE SAME - SAM WHALEN

F IS FOR AFTERLIFE Like forgotten laundry, she tells me she isntoneofthe loose ones. I tell her I know better and we agree that neither of us would be strong enough to survive an afterlife. While I walk down Broadway, a vacant room inChicagoowns me through a speakerphone. Take me off, I say. There is no off, she tells me. Her love is a tin drum. I am on the other side of a continent split in two by a single dirty river. The long wire that connects us and everyone we ever knew is made of a fraying shoestring. As I crossJohn St, the espresso bar dreams in red neon. On my right, every drag queen looks like my best friend. I am a hit with the gay men, I tell her through the phone. What does that even mean? she asks. They love me, I say. They tell me every time I pass by the leather store. Some have even taken to grabbing my ass in the dim sidestreets. Youshouldntbe proud of that, she says. Im not, I say. But sometimes, it just feels right to not have to be a person.

BAYLEE DREW REYNOLDS

KEATON POGUE

Tick tick tick.. tonight i felt like an intruder a watchman. i saw myself 20 years from now doing the same thing that i did tonight. making some sort of love with the same persons in a different form 20 years from now. tonight i felt like i used myself de-evolutionized myself, sanctioned and cornered off myself. Only to be eaten by soggy pointy mosquitos. I cant see my present while Im in it. Only after the job is done, can i see the red. Can you build me a time machine? I want to learn how to x and how to soar and above all how to drink like a normal person. Ive got this demon in my brain. It ticks. Can you see it? Can you hear it ticking? Tonight I felt time running out.
JOE CUMMINGS

Ill feel the same in 20 years from now.

SAM WAY

This is America for fuck sake.

(Seeking Synthesis) Partly it is cognitive science, since all subjects naturally adhere to functions of the brain; partly it is mathematics, for the precise formulations of relationships, terms, and central concern for patterns; partly it is poetry, for the peculiarity of observation, rhythms of insight, and the images of its emergence; partly it is art, for its operation in the sensorial and social domains; partly it is spiritual, for the incompleteness of logical systems, and thus the interdependence of perspectives, and also the vitality of direct experience--communion with reality, by way of ritual with our human counterparts; so it becomes religious. Hence, a central goal in my work is to establish a working vocabulary for protean and liminal behaviors, especially in the domains of art and science, which frees a trajectory of experience to address matters in the poetry of its accord.

CHRISTOPHER WALSH

FIRST LADIES

ALEXANDRA MARICICH

CHELSEA RODINO

NKO Anonymity is the state of an individuals personal identity being unknown. NKOs bio refers to his work as often being about, the failure of language and communication. In an era defined by anything but exclusivity, hes an artist obsessed with how we indentify ourselves, yet is known publicly by only a moniker. NKOs large-scale piece The Architecture of Endlessness covers a 24 x 240 east section of the red wall encasing the construction site of the light rail stop next to Cal Anderson Park. X-number of cranes and plenty of noise daily contribute to what seems to be an ongoing, Amazon-is-coming-inspired-movement, to eliminate all historical architecture in its path and maybe even worse, all parking. An artist with this much talent, however, can allow you, with a brief lift of the eye, to temporarily forget that you happen to live in the middle of it all. We met at a local bar and gallery he frequents, in part due to his reputation affording him a bit of a discount. After a text telling me he was next to the christmas tree (images of him are almost as hard to find as his name), I sat down. There, alone with a shot of whiskey he started to roll a joint. After I answered a few basic questions, he agreed to be the first featured artist in this publication, through the following email Q &A: How long have you lived in Seattle? Forever, it seems... What or when did you first start showing work in Seattle? Big, dumb oil paintings at Zeitgeist Art & Coffee in Pioneer Square. Bryan Yeck, the owner, was one of the first people to support me - thanks for all the free drip coffee! What, so far, do you consider your greatest achievement as an artist? Working with No Touching Ground and Dan Hawkins on projects for New Mystics, which combines both social and visual creative visions. Also founding Free Sheep Foundation with DK Pan, which, with projects like TUBS and 3rd&Battery address most directly issues of collective memory and urbanization. Is your lifestyle supported by your professional work as an artist or do you have a day job ? I work as an Art Director for Saint Genet. Otherwise, I hustle hard and avoid paying rent. What is New Mystics? New Mystics is a body politic composed of degenerates of diverse disciplines. We initially stated as a graffiti crew, but quickly expanded the ranks to include sign painting, screen printing, graffiti, performance, photography, street art, fashion design, fabrication, tattooing, music production, art direction and painting among them. Individually and collectively NM works to produce and comment on urban art, most often existing outside the purview of the gallery or museum, but sometimes within it. Why street culture? People are often intimidated by museums and galleries - dissuaded from participating in an artistic dialogue because of an assumed lack of knowledge or class warfare indicating that art is a luxury few can afford. Everyone should have access to art - and individual, human artistic expression should occupy as much of our visual dialectic as the mechanistic, corporate voice represented by advertising. Street culture, even more so than the internet, is the place to have these conversations because they are real and unmediated. continued>

THE ARCHITECTURE OF ENDLESSNESS - NKO

As its cultural relevancy and notoriety grows, is it still something associated with being taboo or counter culture? Graffiti will always be a taboo culture because it is inherently defined by transgression. Street art is gaining acceptance, but the danger is providing space for messages/images only approved or funded by the dominant cultural paradigm. How do we create a polyphony of voices? As an artist in the city, what do you wish to see more of, what is missing? How could the city become stronger? I want to see everything colorful. I want to see artists of all disciplines being able to afford to live in the city whose people - all people - benefit from their work. I want to see big, beautiful, visionary art projects supported on the same scale we support building condos or digging tunnels. I want to see the landscape shift away from consumerism and towards humanism, with an invitation to participate in an openly democratic and inclusive visual discourse that spans the city. How were you approached to do The Architecture of Endlessness, and what was the inspiration? To create The Architecture of Endlessness first I applied to the stART program artist roster for New Mystics as a curatorial body. Through conversations with program managers DK Pan and Barbara Lucke, and subsequently Mylinda Sneed, Sound Transit has selected a number of NM artists for the Red Wall project, including Baso Fibonacci, Specs Wizard, and soon Bald Man Watching. Foucault would say (and I paraphrase) that prisons exists to remind us that all architecture is a prison. I prefer to think of architecture as a dynamic conversation between humans and space - a sometimes monumental, sometimes playful and yes, often oppressive and/or exclusive discourse. The Architecture of Endlessness, which I completed in collaboration with SignSavant (Japhy Witte), is meant to capture the more imaginative side of urban development - the futuristic cities of our shared dreams. It is difficult to see our memories - which are often inherently tied to architectural space - divorced so forcefully from their anchors by development as the topography of the city shifts ceaselessly around us. In 2010 you suffered a bike accident that left you in the hospital for 12 days and then a year of recovery coping with a traumatic brain injury inspiring your piece, Another Total Failure of Language. What can you remember and how would you say it has effected your art and your life since? I remember nothing. I woke up unable to speak, and spent an incredibly difficult 2 years battling severe depression as I worked on word finding. Language has always been primary in my practice - being so forcefully divorced from it produced a sense of profound alienation. What did your involvement in St. Genets Paradisaical Rights entail exactly and what was the experience like working with them? What was your take on it and how did you feel it was received locally? I like working with Ryan Mitchell because I deeply believe in his vision. He allows me freedom, within the context of an expansive, all encompassing project, to explore the visual identity of the company through printed materials, installation, and developing partnerships. I work with Ryan on graphics, but also on conceptualizing the social/ritual components - like our family meals - which exist outside the performance but enable the -

company to achieve the highest level of performance. Working with Saint Genet is like having an extended family - we have our tribulations, but ultimately mutually support each other, which is necessary because the work is extremely emotionally and physically difficult. I think the performance was incredibly beautiful - what I could see of it. Im usually blacked out after those 6 shots of whisky in 15 minutes during the first act. Its hard to gauge how it was received locally - some loved it, others hated it - but there was clearly response, so overall it was effective. You recently got back from a six month hike along the Appalachian Trail. Whats it like to be in the lost in the wilderness in the middle of August? Pooping outside for 6 months is always a trip. The long distance walking, at this point in my career, is more effective than LSD for rearranging my mental furniture. On the blog site you kept for the trip you listed among the initial motivations to go as; Walt Whitman, the meaning of an authentic American experience, and what it is to be a human, via isolation and vast never ending unfamiliarity. Did you find something out there while absent of commercialism, politics, architecture and everything else we know as culture? What impact has this experience had on you?

Songsoutofthecity.com was a forum for Sara Edwards and I to document and reflect on our experiences thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail. The thru-hike allowed us time to meditate in a way impossible when constantly engaged in the fractured life of a postmodern city. The experience of the trip allows us to approach situations more openly. Well see how it affects me personally and professionally as I integrate the lessons/meditations I learned during that time with my current real life. You have a Vegan cooking blog. Whats your current go to recipe? Yes - nomoneymeals.tumblr.com. Though its less of a food blog and more a repository of memory - mine is rather porous, so I try and manifest moments - meaningful or not which Ill never retain. Though I do cook most meals I eat, and like to remember sharing them with friends...Now its winter so soup, always soup with winter vegetables and some dark, leafy greens? And dill or sage. With some dark rye bread... yes. I just made a rustic split pea today with parsnips, potatoes, carrots, celery, garlic - with just a touch of red -INTERVIEW BY TDT miso, smoked paprika, parsley and lots of black pepper.

SLICK MICK PART ONE - TROY AYALA

LENNON LEIBOVITZD - TROY AYALA

Terminal by Benjamin Marx

Stop and half-undress. The impatience of the man behind you. Take an act otherwise tender but render it sterile. Remove your Jacket, your Belt, your Shoes. Keys are to be relegated to small plastic bowls. Wallets too. To strip you of any identifiers in order to more readily identify you. Without clothes, without government-issued, black-light-ready IDs. His belt snags on the last loop. She is tapping her bare foot, waiting to be strip-searched by rays of light too frequent to see. Momentarily forgetting his crippling need to not offset the well-being of others. She looks away. They pass through their respective detectors. A shared feeling their short journey through grey boxes and unfamiliar latex hands has changed them. They both gather, in armfuls, their Jackets and Belts and Shoes. They both arrive at dirty bench, a contrast to the clean-if-you-dont-look-too-closely aesthetic of the terminal. She smells like mint. It leaves a tension. He feels a tension. A thickness. A taut, braided steel line not unlike those that keep our bridges afloat. Static, stationary, motivated but unwilling to change. She dresses quickly. These benches are homes for the barely Battered. After being scanned, shown that they are not to be trusted, travelers are expected to sit and gather themselves, corporeal and otherwise, to steel against the arduous sit ahead of them. Before they get overwhelmed by the cheap lighting, before the promises of flat tonic, vodka, dirty lemons. Before they share air and touch elbows. Before all this, they are already in need of rest. The wheels of his rolling suitcase leave a scuff on the bench. She is half a gate ahead of him by the time he looks up. There is a faint crisp in the air, her white-blonde hair. Her gait is measured and rushed. There is an obvious discontentment with the length of her legs. He doesnt try to catch up. He thinks about how much more he notices the light when he travels. How security showers him in X-rays. The prospective fuselage is barely shielded against the UV. What else didnt he notice before now? He fears the answer with a dull, ancient fear. He convinces himself that his imagination is preferable. He takes pleasure in imagining a life with a woman. This has turned him into a coward, conditioned by his own conditions. Nonetheless, his mind reels: She and He are years deep. His head is in her lap and they both read, sometimes aloud. She smells like mint and he is seventeen. He summons a wheeze, a tick in her breathing to dig deeper. His hair makes soft indentations, surprise idiosyncrasies. To define the projection. To entrench this sentiment. To deny himself the less-than-obvious wonders within others. He speaks more often than she does. She doesnt mind the silence, he thinks. There are spaces between people sitting at the gate. Empty chairs that are only empty in practice. They dont provide him with an adequate feeling of temporary American Ownership. His eyes shuffle from row to row, looking for a set of spaces big enough. He finds one in the corner, behind a pylon. From here, he cannot see. His vision is filled with voices evenly speaking life-altering sentences: Arturo Diaz. Arturo Diaz. Will you please come see me at gate 67. Arturo Diaz, please come see me at gate 67. They are hand in hand, walking slowly, attempting to bathe until wrinkled inside every luke-warm moment. Both wonder, independently, if they can actually enjoy a moment if they are actively worrying about enjoying it. They both conclude that no, they cannot, and proceed to continue CARL LAWRENCE

worrying, while doubling their efforts to hide the fact. His grip on her gloved hand tightens over the course of a few seconds, in waves. She uses both of her hands to steady herself, to hold onto him, to feel his pulse through his peacoat. An untouchable opacity consumes the pylon. There is a curious amount of shine, neglect at waist-level. Grease from the hair of a Battered who has not showered since before their delayed flight caused them to miss their connecting. As he boards, the wheels of his bag tense into unwilling but helpless, obstinate life. That of a small and rounded child. He feels eyes on him, ears within shot of his labored breathing. Having paid the extra, he is now in business class. So is she. She is sitting next to him. He smells like smoke. He has a personal lamp.

* * *

She likes to imagine a tension with anyone she meets. A dense and sexual tension, ripe for release at moments passionate notice. She dresses casually for the flight. The sad sap in whose sack she slept last left her with a limited catalogue: That Which Was Worn The Night Before. The slowly splitting seam. She arrives. She waits in line. She imagines the man behind her without looking at him. He is tall, vaguely vascular, indifferent but violent and angry. He works with his hands. He regrets his tattoos. He laughs harder when hes alone. He bikes to work. He doesnt talk to his family. She turns. In front of her is a small girl, with a perfectly elliptical face. The line moves up and she wonders if the woman in front of her has self-image issues. Or problems with her mother. Or works a dead-end job. Or works at all. She wonders if the woman in front of her settled. If she is moderately happy taking vacations with her just-enough husband twice a year, now that the kids are safely off at safety school. Any of these are better than the alternative. She settles, as woman of her age and make are wont to do, and passes through with minimal disturbance.

She doesnt have a bag.

But she has a thin leather belt. Relegated to a larger plastic bowl. She has bought this belt many times. She slides it against her hips, through loops. She walks. Terminal. She finds herself in another line. Terminal. Gum assuages her ears. The monopoly of Hudson News. She imagines the man behind her without looking at him: He is average but passionate. The kind of guy that would never make her fear for her well-being in that decidedly boring way. Simultaneously self-absorbed and unconditionally loving. Fights are as short as the sex. Both have an air of general reluctance. Not as regular as a duty, but not as radiant as a passion. She doesnt come, but is instead left with two children. She opts for an epidural, caesarean, days wasted with sleep. She fosters no connections. Postpartum depression quelled then exaggerated by her second, third, fourth reintroduction to the world of liquors. Her kids grow up well-adjusted, attend private schools and graduate with honors and undeserved senses of entitlement. Her son matures into a minor alcoholic with a predilection for uppers. Her daughter grows up and starts her own non-profit. Ekes a living. Visits during the holidays. Both die in car accident on their way to the terminal.
ROSEMARY MCGEADY

She turns around and smells smoke.

CLOTHES - TYLER CORAY

STRANGERS 1 - TYLER CORAY

WHITE T 2 - TYLER CORAY

CAR 1 - TYLER CORAY

T O B Y W A R R E N

Toby. Seattle artist. Cornish College. Residency SVA, NYC. Mixed-Media. Sculpture. Painting. He caught our attention and we extended an invitation to become the first featured artist to have a line within our apparel company. Here is a simple introduction to all things Toby. See apparel at: the pendletonhouse .com

TOBY WARREN

When did you begin pursuing art? I began painting my sophomore year of high school in 2009. It started as a sort of stoners playground and it has since escalated from there. Who initially influenced you? Kathleen Burgette, a local Port Townsend artist and friend. She passed away in 2013. When did you consider yourself a professional artist? I first considered myself as a professional when I realized if I pursued anything else, I would be cheating my conscious. When did you first start showing work in Seattle? The first time I hung work was at Bon Voyage Vintage clothing in Seattles Pioneer Square. I owe that experience to my friends Keith and Meg, co-owners as well as life partners. If you ever were to get the chance I would visit the shop, its kind of bohemian vintage punk indie classic. What are you working on right now? Right now Im throwing world issues around trying to decide what to use as a medium, there is so much happening with our planet and the humans that inhabit it. Without being too preachy I want to write a research paper through my work. What does your art feel like? It feels like me Why did you submit what you did? The work I am showing is a representation of my inspirations and their work through my lens. And a few of my own. Who is your favorite pop culture icon right now? You know I cant really say, I look at pop culture as a game to be discussed and watched, they are all major players at this point but I am not in favor of anyone in particular. Who cant you stand? Dennis Rodman Why do you live? I live to diversify my understandings on the world and alter the understandings of the people around me. Or try to, Im not sure if Im there yet. Also pussy, money, weed. When are you most confused? When I stop Woud you rather live on the sun or moon? I am the sun
TOBY WARREN

TOBY WARREN