Après Keychain

 When I was a child I collected keychains, among other things. As a teenager I started on the found bits of metal littering the streets. I made the construction pictured here maybe at 16 years old. There’s 1984? written on the back of the wooden disc. I made this in the family garage using what was there, a few pieces of wood, some hardware, chain and old gunky paint.

From the chain I started hanging momentos, some keychains….the objects have changed over the years.

I’d hang small found bits off my jean jacket and school bag. When the clusters got too big I’d transfer them to this construction. It always took central real estate in my rooms and apartments. Now it’s in my studio and has inspired more recent work.



Blessings Indeed

 





















I created a series of visual poems using a found and incomplete children’s alphabet puzzle.


My Body And …



In order to properly inaugurate my kinda new studio space I screwed eyelets on the bottom of this sign I painted and hung all manner of my collected trinkets. Accretions accrued and here we are.




Question

 











It would seem more and more that being an artist in this world means having to dance to the tune of social media addiction. It’s exhausting and I’d love to say I’m off that junk and clean, I ain’t. And frankly I’m kinda scared too. You see, since I no longer have a brick and mortar and since I don’t have any kind of regular gallery or publishing representation, I tell myself that soc med is necessary to survive as an artist, to remain seen and active if not relevant.

Without soc med how do I gain traction? No one swings by blogs anymore if they ever did….so here I am. 


New Zines for Expozine 2024




I have made three new zines for this years edition of Montreals rollicking zine fair.

Thematically, these are charged with the beauty and brutality we witness routinely in our world.

I’ve only made forty of each and these will be available exclusively in person at the fair.

This year I also made a little description card so folks not into chatting can have a guess about what’s going on at my table!













Have Art Kit, Will Travel !

 


















Hello Everyone!

I’m so pleased to announce that I’ve been designing various Creative Collaborative Art Experiences to share with individuals or with groups! 

I need to take my creative drive and my Art Kit and connect with folks who want to make art but may need a helping hand!

These aren’t lessons as much as they are play dates! I’ll come to you and your friends (or we can meet in a park or café too) and we’ll make art together!

Can’t wait to see you.

Billy

I Walk Around A Lot : Slideshow & Talk













This afternoon I presented a slideshow at the Mordecai Richler library on Parc Ave. in Mile-End. My focus was on the scraps of paper that I’ve found walking around the neighbourhood. Happy to report a full house and an engaged public. Many thanks to Mémoire du Mile End / Mile End Memories for making this happen. 


 

Inside My Face Is A Mask That Does Not Change















New Zine For Expozine 2023

INSIDE MY FACE IS A MASK THAY DOES NOT CHANGE

signed and numbered edition of forty. 52 pages, various stocks and sizes, rubber stamped and embossed detailing. $20

Only available in person.
 




















Here's a photo of me with my dad, Mihalis Mavreas, in his hospital room the month he died, sometime in September 2018.

It's cropped. My brother and my son are in the background playing.

I miss him even though he aggravated the heck out of me at times. I have lot's of petty and some not so petty complaints about him. I also love him and wish he was around and healthy so I can foist my kid onto him and watch them do their thing.

It's been a year plus and grief is strange. My mom, who I visited yesterday for the first time in too long, has her ups and downs. She wore a white t-shirt under her black blouse for the first time yesterday, she said.

Greeks are heavy enough as it is without death around. With death, holy cow.

That's all I've got for now.