Jordan Faris

My first memories of are of drawing, always trying to work something into a semblance of that midway point between what’s real and the potential of some other world. I’ve drawn all my life. My secular work includes stints teaching, working in the technology, healthcare, and performing arts sectors.

I’ve come full circle, linking back to that faraway room where I drew for hours, hoping at this other extreme to artistically summon again the consensus between reality and its inverted dream life twin.

My sources of inspiration are eclectic but have a thread of stylistic logic: First and foremost I love Golden Age American illustration, but am equally held in thrall by artists of the Vienna Secession, as well as the brethren known as the Pre-Raphaelites. I’d be lying though omission if I didn’t admit to being chronically indebted to many stars in the sequential medium firmament, particularly Alex Raymond, Noel Sickles, Leonard Starr, Neal Adams, Jim Steranko, Berni Wrightson, Barry Windsor-Smith, Michael W. Kaluta, and Gil Kane among a cavalcade of pen and ink luminaries too often confined to artistic footnotes in the rarified columns of the cognoscenti.

Self-taught. No that’s not entirely true, The Chula Vista Vista Public LIbrary, circa 1977-1984 was the best Atelier I ever had the pleasure of attending.