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Laveta's blog:
www.themustardroom.tumblr.com |
Hector LaVéta is a paradox wrapped in an
enigma wrapped in a Mexican blanket, served warm over a hot bed of brown
rice beneath a suspicious overpass. He is eccentric, yet collectively
calm. He is emotional, yet intellectual. He is a dreamer, yet suffers
from chronic insomnia. In short, Hector LaVéta is artiste!
Divorced with no children, Hector LaVéta still calls his birthplace of
San Luis Potsi, Mexico home. He owns a mobile home of humble stature
which is often rented out to transient Tupperware salesfolk. For
thirteen years, Hector wasted away his youth trying to create a growth
hormone for chinchillas to no avail. It was during the end of that
trying period, however, that the young LaVéta began dabbling in the
visual arts. Unbeknownst, his long time neighbor, a sheep farmer known
as Carlos Table, had unexpectedly dropped by to show off the manuscript
of a book which he "accidentally" wrote. Nevertheless, he was going to
seek publication and was wondering if Hector knew of any freelance
illustrators to provide imagery for his project. Hector shared with
Carlos a portfolio of his latest sketches, and without delay they
proceeded to collaborate on Mr. Table's project. That partnership
yielded the critically acclaimed short-run publication, Small Figments
of Another Time.
Selling his lot of chinchillas for bus fare, Hector joined Carlos as
they migrated to the U.S. to promote Small Figments. They began by
circulating the book among friends and friends of friends. Small
Figments - a cavalcade of short stories weaving in and out and through
one another - served as a discourse on the eccentricities of the human
experience. The buzz surrounding the publication's emotional weight and
the comic genius spread like wildfire. A slow evolving multitude of
curious folk began asking about the book and it seemed the boys from San
Luis Potsi couldn't give enough copies away. That is until the day came
when it seemed that they had. They had given away more copies than they
could afford until Carlos grew hungry for the comfort of his wife's jack
rabbit stroganoff and returned home to his family. Though the book was
hailed as a critical success, Hector chalked it up as another in his
long list of failed endeavors. He moved to Laredo where he earned his
keep while filling several questionable job openings. He wandered the
streets, looking for love in all the wrong places. He was lonely,
desperate, and three weeks late on his Highlights magazine payment.
It was at this juncture where LaVéta had a chance encounter that would
forever change the direction of his life. "As I walked out in the
streets of Laredo," Hector recalls, "I spied a young cowboy all dressed
in white linen, dressed in white linen as cold as the clay. I then said
to this strapping slack-jawed yokel, 'I see by your outfit that you are
a cowboy.' At which he replied, 'Yup!' I then followed that cowboy on
horseback to the nearest Texaco station, bought myself a blue smoothie
and a moon pie and hitched a ride to Muncie, Indiana." It was there,
during unauthorized late hours in the fine arts building at Ball State
University that Hector forged a life-long fiendship with a sixth year
art student on the threshold of graduation. That student was future
architect of the Mustard Room, Joel Rockey. Hector LaVéta secretly
collaborated with Mr. Rockey on his senior project which was showcased
alongside the work of Stuart Godfrey in one of the first exhibitions to
be held in Muncie's renowned Mitchell Place Gallery.
Hector has since spent his days lending his agitated mind and prowess
for visual composition to many projects for the Mustard Room. He
continues to push forward in the underground arts scene, denying
mainstream opportunities and appearances. He is a man of low profile and
high waters. He currently surfs gingerly from the Rockeys' living room
sofa.
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