The Art of the Brick

146

147

heroes

hawk

As an artist, I have my heroes. Some of them

are also artists. I like the British artist Antony

Gormley a lot. He did this amazing installation,

Event Horizon, with life-size human figures

standing on the edges of buildings in London,

New York, and São Paulo. Wonderful.

I’ve carried a book on Tom Friedman’s art around

with me for decades. It’s been on every coffee

table of every apartment I’ve ever lived in. It

shows his fantastic art made out of bubblegum

and toothpicks and soap—whatever was around

him. In a way, seeing what Friedman did gave

me permission to take my own art seriously.

Here was a guy making legitimate art, shown in

legitimate museums, out of alternative media.

So why couldn’t I?

I consider skateboarding

an art form, a lifestyle, and a sport.

— Ton y Ha w k

148

When I looked at that book, I’d begin to believe that

it could all be possible.

Jim Lee, the comic-book artist and publisher, is

another hero. He has an amazing bank of properties

he can play with: Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman.

Although he didn’t create these characters, he has an

incredibly fresh take on familiar icons.

But the guy I’ve tried to model my career on isn’t

an artist at all. At least not one you’d find in a

museum. Tony Hawk and I first crossed paths when

we were both featured in an article about people

who had weird jobs. I was the LEGO guy; he was the

skateboarder who landed the 900 and sold millions

of video games. And then we crossed paths again

at a Google Zeitgeist event, and we were on a small

panel, so we got to spend some more time talking.

He eventually commissioned Hawk.

Tony took something that wasn’t a job and made it

a career. Then he made it into an industry. He makes

giant leaps. He’s not afraid of falling short, or if he is,

he does a damn good job of hiding it. I look at him to

see what he’s doing next and say, Should I be doing

that? Because for me, he’s proof that you can make

yourself.

149

150