Compelling Compulsion
This story originally appeared on chapelhillmagazine.com in May 2013. The publication has since switched website hosts and thus lost some of their digital content. Compelling Compulsion
Roger Kellison had a full career in the construction industry, and it shows. He welcomes me into his home wearing Carhartt khakis and a faded blue zip-up hoodie, bandana tucked into his back pocket. But there‟s much more to this man‟s life, which becomes obvious upon one glance at his space. Frames cover not just his living room but every inch of hallway and his kitchen as well. And then there are the stacks upon stacks of prints – both matted and not, framed and frameless – in the middle of the floor, sitting on chairs, occupying corners. “This place is neat right now!” he says, laughing. “We started hanging pictures on the wall because we were running out of space to walk.” Roger began his life as a photographer in the ‟70s. It fell to the wayside during the heyday of his working years and resurfaced after retirement a decade ago.
Roger, 76, was diagnosed with Parkinson‟s Disease a little more than two years ago. He will tell you he was never a creative kind of guy. Then, he‟ll casually mention the invention of an anchoring product during his construction years, and the fact that he‟s always tended to have artistic friends and significant others, suggesting otherwise. He‟ll also tell you he was not an obsessive-compulsive kind of guy until his Parkinson‟s diagnosis, which is not unusual. “I Googled „Parkinson‟s drugs and artistic compulsions,‟ and there have been a number of [similar] cases, and continue to be,” says Roger. A turning point came when his son-in-law, local author Daniel Wallace, gave him a used printer a few years ago. “Until [then], I had never printed a picture,” Roger says. “Then, compulsion came into play because I couldn‟t stop. I was staying up until 2 and 3 in the morning, printing photos.” Something had to be done with the heaps of photos Roger kept printing, and so last Father‟s Day his daughter, Laura, hosted a mini art show among her friends. Then, her next-door neighbor, Jay Parker ofWeaver Street Realty, asked if Roger wanted to sell photos as a part of Art Walk. “It turns out, a number of [people] actually kind of liked „em, I guess,” Roger says. Roger approaches both his art and his disease with a no-nonsense determination and acceptance. After he started printing photos, he just couldn‟t throw them away. So he started collaging them. “I still couldn‟t get some of the things that I wanted and so I started splashing paint on,” Roger says, even though he insists he “can‟t paint worth a damn.” Thus were born POPs – painted on pictures. Sometimes he‟ll print a photo, paint on it, scan it again and then work on it on his computer until he gets something he‟s satisfied with. When he recently consolidated all of his files onto an external hard drive, he found out he had 990 folders of 79,000 files; he estimates 95% of those have been taken since retirement and altered or printed in the past two years. All of his work evokes a sarcastic irony. “I have a lot of rundown or abandoned places. When you think of the hopes and the dreams and all that went into …” and he trails off, caught up in looking at a print of the former E.B. White furniture factory in Mebane. At the end of the day, Roger is still just a humble hobbyist. “I don‟t really have a message. But I‟m somewhat concerned with the fact that things just pass on through,” Roger says. “I don‟t know,
maybe it‟s my fatality. Man has put so much effort and so much work into things, and in the end they just sort of go off into anonymity.” – Jessie Ammons See Roger’s photography, collages and POPs at the next Art Walk on Friday, May 10 from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. His work will be at Johnny’s, 901 W. Main St., Carrboro.
Roger Kellison had a full career in the construction industry, and it shows. He welcomes me into his home wearing Carhartt khakis and a faded blue zip-up hoodie, bandana tucked into his back pocket. But there‟s much more to this man‟s life, which becomes obvious upon one glance at his space. Frames cover not just his living room but every inch of hallway and his kitchen as well. And then there are the stacks upon stacks of prints – both matted and not, framed and frameless – in the middle of the floor, sitting on chairs, occupying corners. “This place is neat right now!” he says, laughing. “We started hanging pictures on the wall because we were running out of space to walk.” Roger began his life as a photographer in the ‟70s. It fell to the wayside during the heyday of his working years and resurfaced after retirement a decade ago.
Roger, 76, was diagnosed with Parkinson‟s Disease a little more than two years ago. He will tell you he was never a creative kind of guy. Then, he‟ll casually mention the invention of an anchoring product during his construction years, and the fact that he‟s always tended to have artistic friends and significant others, suggesting otherwise. He‟ll also tell you he was not an obsessive-compulsive kind of guy until his Parkinson‟s diagnosis, which is not unusual. “I Googled „Parkinson‟s drugs and artistic compulsions,‟ and there have been a number of [similar] cases, and continue to be,” says Roger. A turning point came when his son-in-law, local author Daniel Wallace, gave him a used printer a few years ago. “Until [then], I had never printed a picture,” Roger says. “Then, compulsion came into play because I couldn‟t stop. I was staying up until 2 and 3 in the morning, printing photos.” Something had to be done with the heaps of photos Roger kept printing, and so last Father‟s Day his daughter, Laura, hosted a mini art show among her friends. Then, her next-door neighbor, Jay Parker ofWeaver Street Realty, asked if Roger wanted to sell photos as a part of Art Walk. “It turns out, a number of [people] actually kind of liked „em, I guess,” Roger says. Roger approaches both his art and his disease with a no-nonsense determination and acceptance. After he started printing photos, he just couldn‟t throw them away. So he started collaging them. “I still couldn‟t get some of the things that I wanted and so I started splashing paint on,” Roger says, even though he insists he “can‟t paint worth a damn.” Thus were born POPs – painted on pictures. Sometimes he‟ll print a photo, paint on it, scan it again and then work on it on his computer until he gets something he‟s satisfied with. When he recently consolidated all of his files onto an external hard drive, he found out he had 990 folders of 79,000 files; he estimates 95% of those have been taken since retirement and altered or printed in the past two years. All of his work evokes a sarcastic irony. “I have a lot of rundown or abandoned places. When you think of the hopes and the dreams and all that went into …” and he trails off, caught up in looking at a print of the former E.B. White furniture factory in Mebane. At the end of the day, Roger is still just a humble hobbyist. “I don‟t really have a message. But I‟m somewhat concerned with the fact that things just pass on through,” Roger says. “I don‟t know,
maybe it‟s my fatality. Man has put so much effort and so much work into things, and in the end they just sort of go off into anonymity.” – Jessie Ammons See Roger’s photography, collages and POPs at the next Art Walk on Friday, May 10 from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. His work will be at Johnny’s, 901 W. Main St., Carrboro.
