‘s paintings represent a healthy mix of cerebral contemplation and audacious instinct. Framed by centuries of art history, Lapin’s work culls from the conventions of landscape painting and then obscures those familiar elements with unsettling layers of abstraction. I teamed up with Boston-based magazine to interview this renowned painter in her downtown L.A. studio, and take a look at her unique process.

It’s an important question to ask an artist: “Why do you make stuff?” At its core, the answer I’d always love to hear an artist say is, “I make stuff for myself.” It seems to me that those are the artists that show genuine talent. So, what happens when you ask two people– partners in life and art– to try and describe the force that drives them, and the things in life that got them to that point?

and are a couple, and they’re both incredibly prolific and inspiring artists. I first began my working relationship with Victor and Becca when they participated in a that took place at , under the moniker Big Apple Graphicxz. Since then, I’ve received epic, epic emails and occasionally a phone call that leaves me in awe of their superhuman character.

Here, and on the question of: Why do you make stuff?

There’s an atomic afterglow emanating from the paintings of . They brim with so much kinetic energy, I’d totally understand if you felt a little intimidated by their labyrinthine compositions. But that’s a good thing: Gueorguieva’s work is like a challenge– a taunt inciting you to dig deep below the layers of her shapes and forms. Like an epic mural, your eyes can land almost anywhere on the canvas and find something interesting. Read them backwards and forwards, left and right, and you’ll only uncover more mysterious sub-plots of intense emotion swimming amidst an overarching abstract narrative.

The latest issue of includes a fantastic feature on Iva, penned by the awesome Evan J. Garza. The magazine wanted to delve deeper into Iva’s work and examine her process in action, so we teamed up to make the video above. Iva was gracious enough to allow me into her L.A. studio, where she shared the importance of sound, time and space in her work. Examining those enormous paintings and collages up close, I felt like I might fall in.

of New American Paintings (with a cover by ) is on newsstands now! Check out more images of Iva Gueorguieva’s work after the jump.

canadian viagra I’m pleased as peaches to present the following feature on artist and his magnificent multi-dimensional artwork. Below you’ll find an insightful interview by Dan Rosplock, alongside exclusive portraits shot by . Don’t miss our of Jason’s original art piece!! – canadian viagra

Like energy and matter, meaning cannot be destroyed, only redistributed. The symbols in Jason Villegas’s artworks are the children of complacent capitalist icons born into an unpredictable environment. As such, they retain something of the glamorous impact of their forebears, yet their uncertain future has forced them to become more versatile. These are cyborgs, war machines, strange hybrids and channelers of mystical energy suited for survival in any scenario. Villegas is one of those rare creative personalities who seems to be able to reform any cultural construct or market force no matter how concrete or abstract into something more resilient, useful, and, above all, beautiful. He recently took some time to talk to us about such diverse topics as globalism, mainstream Bear aesthetics, and how he came to be a master seamster.

is well known for his wily literary accomplishments, which include writing a book called Shoplifting from American Apparel and then , inciting with his mysterious Internet pranks, and basing his latest novel, , around the suicidal angst shared between a pair of lovers named Haley Joel Osment and Dakota Fanning.

But when he’s not busy changing the face of literature or sparking hip hop-level firestorms of blogtroversy between improbably irascible haters and die-hard fanatics, Lin indulges himself in the . His subject? Hamsters. His tools of the trade? MS Paint, Photoshop and construction paper. At a book tour stop in L.A. Tao took the time to chat about his process, share some juicy details on his forthcoming iPhone App, canadian viagra, and gives us a quick lesson on how to draw a hamster.

[ Ed. Note: Please welcome stellar curator Katie Vonderheide of to Future Shipwreck! - canadian viagra ]

I met artist Megan Whitmarsh through an e-mail I sent her before moving to Los Angeles three years ago. At the time, she was pregnant with twins and we talked art, L.A., and me helping to assist her once she had her girls. She is one of my favorite people to talk to, because she speaks in a thoughtful, genuine, and intelligent manner that is topped off with a great sense of humor. It’s the same approach she takes towards her work.

Rather than conducting an ordinary interview, I wanted Megan to share a true story from her past. Sometimes it’s inspiring to be reminded that artists lead fantastic lives full of amazing experiences that influence and harmonize with the work they make. I’m excited to say, at Graham’s eager request, that Megan will be sharing a scintillating story once a month here on Future Shipwreck!

I lived and went to grad school in New Orleans in the mid 90′s. We used to go to this dingy restaurant in a cheap hotel called “The Hummingbird” for breakfast and they had signs all over the place that said things like “all hamburgers are cooked medium” and “No talking to yourself”. I had two friends that had jobs where they made little or actually negative money. My friend Theresa Columbus worked at this place called Tina’s as a morning waitress. She only got paid in tips. The most she ever made was $2.50 but she still worked there for almost a month because she felt sorry for Tina. My friend Ken Como got a job selling Manuel’s Hot Tamales out of a van on a street corner. He said Manuel told him “I usually hire cripples and vets but you can have the job if you want it.” He was to be paid $1 for every 6 dollars worth of tamales he sold. At the end of his first day he owed Manuel $3 because he had eaten one dozen tamales (they were small) and only sold 3 dozen. Also everyone in New Orleans had crazy names like Strawberry and Pigeon and Biscuit and Chicken and Squishy and Otter.

We lived in a warehouse we called “Monster Island” and had shows to make money. We had a circus once on my birthday– me and Panacea Pussycat and another girl dressed up as tigers and leopards and jumped through a flaming hoop. We had an alligator man who was a friend of mine with magic marker scales drawn all over him that remained for many days. In retrospect it seems kind of “burning man”. We used to buy beverages at this place called Suda Salvage that sold things that were discontinued or maybe had fallen off a truck somewhere. They had a lot of food items like raisin pie filling and we got really toxic cheap wine and beer and one time this schnapps called “Shooterita” that was tomato juice flavored. It was so disgusting that we would give a free drink to anyone who drank a shot of it. During termite season the warehouse would be infested and one time we swept up all the termites that had just died naturally over the course of a few days and made a heart-shaped pile that was about 10 feet in diameter and inches tall. The warehouse was so big we could drive all our cars in it and sometimes we had a drive-in night and showed movies on a sheet. There were no windows no kitchen. We used the bathtub to wash our dishes.

At their normal scale, ‘s paintings are epic, dazzlingly detailed and savagely visceral. Laser-beaming minotaurs, nut-crushing wrestlers and Super Saiyan pop stars burn with adrenaline-drenched zeal and hyperbolic intensity inspired by “the pleasure and pain of the male orgasm.” Twenty years from now, the unshakable imprint of these images will linger in your brain, whether you like it or not.

Now, Ruiz excitedly embarks on the painstaking painting of his– and possibly our entire planet’s– largest watercolor ever. I tracked down the San Francisco-themed “disasterpiece” this week in Fontana, where it was discretely strapped to the backside of a two-story home on a severely suburban cul de sac. Conrad was kind enough to give us an exclusive sneak peek at the canvas as he begins this unprecedented artistic odyssey. So without further ado, I’m proud to present Conrad Ruiz, the World’s Largest Watercolor, some wistful tales of youthful indiscretions and a paean to the transformative power of punk play-fighting.