Art is often described as a reflection of its creator— a mirror to the soul. But what happens when the creator doesn’t just reflect, but revels in the unusual, the odd, the delightfully eccentric? Enter the world of quirky artists and photographers, where every brushstroke, snap of the camera, or doodle is a playful rebellion against normality.
Mike Savad, an artist with an imagination as wild as the worlds he colours, admits that his quirks might not reach the whimsical heights of the Mad Hatter, but that doesn’t mean he’s not interesting. “Animal folk think I’m fine, toys as far as I know are cool with me,” he says. Quirky? Perhaps. But Savad suggests the true measure of quirkiness is in how others perceive it. After all, to the quirky individual, they’re just doing their thing. “One man’s quirk is another man’s coping mechanism,” says Ed Meredith, echoing a sentiment shared by many of these artists.
Some quirks are deeply personal, almost too intimate to share. Take Western Exposure, for example, who named her gallbladder Lititia, with a cheeky nod to its unexpected, sometimes troublesome, presence in her life. “Normal is boring,” she asserts, poking fun at the conventional way of thinking. And in her world, even body parts deserve a quirky name.
Then there’s Shelli Fitzpatrick, whose art may seem unconventional, but it’s her pet banty chicken, Wino, that steals the spotlight. “Now when I come out and she sees my glass in my hand, she rushes to me, jumps up and proceeds to try to drink all of my wine,” Shelli laughs, recounting her feathered friend’s fondness for a little sweet wine. “She gets a buzz, and then takes a nap in the tree. She never falls out, though,” she says with a smile, proving that even chickens can have more fun than most people.
It’s not always about creating a masterpiece; sometimes, it’s about the little things— like the way Rudy Umans admits, “I do dance to the beat of my own Kazoo.” To Rudy, that’s just normal. But to the outside world, it’s a delightful quirk that offers a glimpse into his unique approach to life and art. Even when his Kazoo has been retired, he looks back with fondness at the “horribly annoying” mouth harp he once owned, further solidifying his place in the quirky hall of fame.
And then there’s Teekworth, who claims his art is “all over the place”— a bit unfocused, perhaps, but undeniably quirky in its own right. Teekworth doesn’t shy away from the oddities of life, either. He engages in conversations with stuffed animals— even hosting conventions for their dragons, whether they’re real or not. And when they need to clear their mind, cemeteries provide the perfect retreat. “The dead don’t talk back,” Teekworth says, adding a touch of humour to his unconventional habits.
For some, being labelled “eccentric” or “quirky” is part of their charm, even if they never quite see it themselves. “I’m not sure if a person can say they are quirky,” says Mike Savad, continuing, “I think others would have to recognise if a person is quirky. Because to the quirker, they are normal.” It’s true— to the quirky artist, everything from their conversations with inanimate objects to their unconventional creative process feels perfectly ordinary.
In the end, what makes these artists quirky isn’t necessarily the eccentricities themselves, but their willingness to embrace them without apology. Whether it’s naming organs, befriending chickens with a penchant for wine, or holding conventions for stuffed dragons, these artists are proof that creativity isn’t just confined to the canvas— it spills over into every corner of their lives.
And perhaps, the true definition of quirkiness is that in a world full of ‘normal,’ these individuals are the ones who dare to be extraordinary.
Absolutely love it! Reminds me of a popular book back in the 60s, “Have you ever met a normal person? Did you like it?”