Forced Clearly

About the Donut Works

Triadic Exploration: Conception, Perception, Reception

These three words form a natural triad in the life cycle of an idea or an artwork. They exist in tension with each other, both as a collective whole and as opposites.

Conception – The birth of an idea, an artwork, or a form. This is the act of bringing something into existence from nothingness. In a mystical or alchemical sense, it is the moment of divine spark—where raw material meets intent. In the context of these preserved donuts, this is the initial impulse: Why preserve a donut? Why choose this medium? Why do some ideas become artifacts while others dissolve?

Perception – The moment of engagement. Once an idea is formed, it exists in the world, subject to observation, interpretation, and distortion. Perception is the filter through which meaning is derived. It is the lens of history, personal bias, and cultural memory. The preserved donut is not just a donut; it is seen through the layers of nostalgia, commercialism, humor, and even memento mori.

Reception – The final stage in the cycle. This is the way an artwork is received, how it embeds itself in memory, critique, or consumption. Some ideas are celebrated, others discarded. A preserved donut might be viewed as absurd, profound, or grotesque—its reception is unpredictable. This phase also includes decay—not physical decay in this case, but the erosion or transformation of meaning over time.

Together, these three words form a self-consuming loop—a donut-like cycle. Conception begets perception, which fuels reception, which in turn influences future conceptions.

 

Hearts Howling

SITE UPDATE LOG 02.23.2025

The core CMS naming structure has been reworked with 3-letter prefix to visually indicate the sets prime data array location. These 3-letter prefix relate to the primary navigation L1 hierarchy.

—

365 Pixelation Project - Page added to Series
Peeps - Page added to Series

Wrong Worm

SITE UPDATE LOG 02.22.2025

Working to unify naming on core CMS, it has been screwed up from the start but now is on the right track. 

The central 'WORKBOOK' for all art cataloging has been re-established. All content stream from former applications and text areas are being injected. This master FILE is also now updating and controlling the sites CMS.

—

365 Pixelation Project - Data set added
Archway Oferendas - Data set added
Peeps - Data set added
Donuts - Data set added

The Stubborn Mark

The hand itches, the mind protests,

The flaw remains—a slight unrest.

To press, to squeeze, to dig too deep,

Might wake the wound from restless sleep.

So hush the urge, embrace the blot,

Let placement make it what it’s not.

For some defects, when framed just right,

Become the spark that shapes the light. 

Moist Towelette

UNEDITED VOICE TO TEXT MEMO - 02/12/25 23.38 EST

New recording three4 fuck whatever these are I need to start thinking about goodness my voice is very hoarse right now. That's all right. I'll drink some water out of the CocaCola glass. These voice memos aren't supposed to make any sense to begin with, so you can list of my action and try and understand or maybe see what the video might have been of this, but all you get is my fucking not even audio, but uh written audio with a hoarse voice. It's got a really hoarse voice right now. Anyways, the uh the quick idea that we're gonna put it in this post tonight is um gets back into condiments and packages left in your to go food or just also seen on sidewalks or in your train stations or buses anywhere else. Uh I considered to just doing drawings of the packages themselves for a long time who had been collecting them and thinking about what what of a collectivist action of an independent drawings of all the same catchups or a similar drawings of all the the same or different mustards. But that's not the point that the thing should be um the drawings point should be what is given at a certain moment in time. These drawings should be about time and place. So they will always have a time stamp as the title or place as the title location, place for them both. God, my voice is really bad right now. I sound like fucking Clint Eastwood. It's uh I might even post this thing as a not text voice is just more of the fucking voice. It's kind of funny., hang on, let me drink some water. Maybe I well, I'm gonna drink some waterways cause I wanted but here I shouldn't. If I sounded like this at work, people would maybe listen to me for a while, and uh you know, if I if I kept doing what I'm doing right now, cause I know I sound like Glen Eastwood and well, I know I sound like Clint Eastwood, but uh, you know, I kind of I kind of take my time and emphasize certain things and make sure that you the perpetrator of whatever might be the vile deal that you've done understands. but besides that, the idea of this is that um we're not going to draw individual condiment or um condiment or uh utensil or utilitarian things, such as moist towelettes, we're not gonna draw them individually. We may still, but they're not the primary focus of these works. The only way to individualize these works as to think of it is that at any point of time when I get food to go, I must ensure that that food to go is dispensed up and eaten. What I need a procurement or a a disposable a disposal to procurement manner to ensure that the artifacts of the bag such as fancy ketchup or fancy tomato ketchup or monogram, uh moist towelettes or, you know, uh cellphone bag of a spoon fork, knife, salt, pepper, napkin, combo packet. uh, uh or displayed as they they they fall out so there should be a suitable situation in terms of the performance and they're dropped and they're just as they fucking are. And as an artist, you photograph them at the same fucking angle or you draw them at the same angle, or you figure out some singularity that you focus on. And the singularity of course, can be a point that's always moving, but the point is we're not going to worry about a fucking single ketchup packet or a single packet of of of mustard from a monarch company established and in 1863 we're going to worry about the load the load that comes from uh the to go food at times because I I'll look at it tonight and I have a sure to be a quote sure to be lovely hamburger with dater tots. But what's interesting is I've got a beautiful cellophane plastic packet of spoon, knife, fork. salt pepper, napkin, wrapped. What if we actually look and there there is a monogram instance in here, which is interesting. I've never gotten it from this place before, which I't disclose in this post, but you know where I was, if you're looking at time stamps. I've got a very wonder oh, I'm just I'm actually g I'm unfolding the slab of shit. uh condiments that was in this bag and I just unfolded them and it's actually a nice three two one rhythm. So it's three fancy tomato ketchups to two mustards to one craft mayo. and uh outside of the utensils and your salt pepper mix up napkin clean up. I've got a beautiful monogram cleaning disposables, moist towelettes and it's actually lemon scented. How about that?

Future Past

Happy National Popcorn Day. Enjoy the show!

 

Rusted Foam

Last night, I had the pleasure of visiting Arches Brewing's new location at the historic Atlanta Utility Works building in East Point, Georgia. The occasion? A casual friends-and-family gathering, offering a sneak peek at the space before its official opening next week.

While the interiors are still very much a work in progress, the raw energy of the space is unmistakable. The building itself—a former industrial hub—brims with stories, its bones steeped in the patina of age and industry. Rusted beams and weathered brickwork add a kind of gritty charm that feels ripe for artistic intervention. This isn't just a brewery in transition; it's a canvas waiting to be activated.

As I walked through the unfinished halls, I couldn't help but imagine the possibilities for gallery shows here again. The new format is markedly different from Arches' previous space—more expansive yet filled with its own set of quirks. Those quirks, like the rusted pipes and industrial remnants, could be seen as obstacles. But to me, they're opportunities to create installations that speak to the history of the building, inviting dialogue between the art, the space, and the people who gather there.

Of course, the vision will have to wait until the space is fully realized. But there's a clear sense of potential here—a space where craft beer and craft art could coexist, each amplifying the other. It's a reminder that sometimes the most compelling creative opportunities lie not in polished perfection but in the beauty of transformation.

Stay tuned. Once the dust settles, this could be a place where the rust sings.

Story Walks

Big moves are happening—my domain, thomasarthurschaefer.com, has officially been pointed to its shiny new site builder. After spending the entirety of 2024 revamping the site using Wix, I’m thrilled to finally see it come to life. Why Wix? Let’s just say I got tired of hand-coding everything. The original site, born in what I can only describe as my "digital stone age," was a hard-coded relic. It lacked an SQL database to organize my work and information properly, and it was designed exclusively for desktops. Back then, mobile web browsers were about as reliable as a car running on two flat tires—they just didn’t do justice to anything remotely artistic.

Fast forward to today: the new site is fully optimized for both desktop and mobile platforms. This isn’t just a redesign; it’s a rethinking of how I share my work. Admittedly, I hadn’t added substantial updates to the site since 2015—aside from the Works on Paper series—so this overhaul was long overdue.

For the past eight years, I’ve run the ABA Gallery website on Wix and appreciated the platform’s flexibility. Now, I’m bringing that same versatility to my personal site. One feature I’m particularly excited about is the ability to integrate custom JavaScript. I’ve already coded a dynamic script that adjusts the horizontal height of images in grid and gallery views. It’s a small detail, but for someone obsessed with presentation, it makes all the difference.

Looking ahead, we’re also adding an online store, slated to launch within the next month. My ABA Gallery shop proved to be a hit, so I’m stoked to bring that energy here. Expect to see sneakers, shirts, and other merch, alongside large-scale Works on Paper pieces—specifically 48x62-inch canvases. For those who’ve already snagged a piece from this series, you know what a statement they make. It’s about time I shared more of these works with the world.

Launch Countdown: January 19, 2025
The site is set to go live in just 48 hours, and I couldn’t be more excited. Transitional moments like this always feel charged—both personally and globally. I can’t help but reflect on how technology, culture, and even art presentation have evolved since I first started coding my own sites. What was once a purely desktop experience is now a seamless, fluid design accessible anywhere.

Passing Through

David Lynch passed away today at the age of 78. The world feels a little dimmer without his enigmatic presence, but his legacy remains luminous. My friend Aaron Barker said something that struck me deeply: "We are so lucky to have shared the earth with him and to watch his movies come out in real time, in theaters." I couldn’t agree more. Experiencing Lynch’s films as they debuted—a new puzzle to unravel, a new dream to inhabit—was nothing short of a privilege.

Beyond his films, I’ve always been drawn to his other creative pursuits—his paintings, sculptures, and the raw, tactile worlds he created outside of celluloid. I’d love to see some of his larger works in person someday. There’s a visceral energy to the footage of him painting on his patio, cigarette in hand, surrounded by Los Angeles light and shadows. Something about that scene—the juxtaposition of his methodical chaos and the serene environment—feels universally appealing. It reminds me of how creating art can feel like carving a sanctuary out of the ordinary.

Of course, Lynch’s patio was perched on Mulholland Drive in Los Angeles, a place that served as a muse and backdrop to much of his work. And here I am, on Dogwood Drive in Hapeville. But perhaps that’s the beauty of it—art blooms anywhere, in any space we carve for it. There’s something serendipitous about reflecting on Lynch’s creative spaces now, as I’m contemplating setting up my own. A little haven where ideas can ferment and evolve, where raw energy can take shape, and where the everyday can be transformed into something extraordinary.

David Lynch taught us to embrace the strange and the beautiful, to find the sacred in the surreal. He showed us that art is not confined by geography or convention—it’s born of a desire to create, to understand, to connect. Today, as I think of Lynch and his patio, I’m inspired to build my own space. Maybe it won’t overlook the glittering lights of LA, but it will be mine. And that’s enough.

Rest well, Mr. Lynch. Thank you for the dreams.