Famous Key West Lobster Buoy Artist ,WEIRD FLORIDA: ROADS LESS TRAVELED
Charlie Carlson visits one of the weirdest guys in the world, the one and only Hong Kong Willie. WEIRD FLORIDA: ROADS LESS TRAVELED
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FUNDING FOR THIS PROGRAM IS MADE POSSIBLE BY THE
S.L. GIMBEL FOUNDATION.
IN THIS EDITION OF "WEDU ARTS PLUS,Hongkongwillie
Blue Marlin Dream of Key West.
$225,000 Hong Kong Willie Art
The Gunn Highway Landfill is located
off Gunn Highway in Tampa, Hillsborough
County, Florida. The county operated the landfill
as a trench-type facility for the disposal
of MSW from 1958 to 1962.It,(was the dump) that had all this media, and a young enterprising mind. Not enough time to capture it all.
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Famous Key West Lobster Buoy Artist
Hong Kong Willie
CALL US, WE ARE HERE.
ASK FOR
HONG KONG WILLIE.
813 770 4794
Used Key West Lobster Buoy Floats (3)
USED KEY WEST LOBSTER BUOYS FOR SALE
Key West Used Lobster Buoys Styrofoam objects which can be used for many craft or nautical design purposes. Used to decorate Tiki huts, Key West
lobster floats give you that nautical feeling of a private Key West
island in your back yard. Prepare yourself for Christmas using these
buoys making your Nautical Snowman.
Three Key West Buoys Included on Key West Rope.
Key West Used Lobster Buoys
Here is a Few Articles On
Key West Lobster Buoy Artist
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It Was those Last Words, She Said to Me
It Was that Tampa City Dump,the Art Teacher,her last words that made Tampa's Famous reuse artist.
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New Tampa Patch
By
Tristram DeRoma
The Story Behind the Eye-Catching Art at I-75 Exit 266 Tampa Florida
Key West Lobster Buoy Artist, better known as "Hong Kong Willie," makes art with a message at his home/studio near
I-75 Exit 266 Tampa Florida
Sometimes, it’s the smallest experiences that have the biggest impact on a person’s life.
While attending an art class in 1958 at the age of 8, Tampa folk artist Joe Brown recalled being mesmerized by the lesson. It involved
transforming a Gerber baby bottle into a piece of art.
“The Gerber bottle had no intrinsic value at all,” he said. “But when
(the instructor) got through with me that day, she made me see how
something so (valueless) can be valuable.”
By the time class was over, Brown learned many other lessons, too,
such as the importance of volunteerism, recycling, reuse and giving back
to the community. He recalled being impressed by the teacher's
volunteer work in Hiroshima, Japan, helping atomic bomb survivors.
"One of the last words she ever spoke to me about that was, ‘When I
left, I left out of Hong Kong,’ ” he said. After turning that over in
his young brain for awhile, he decided to use it in a nickname, adding
the name “Willie” a year later.
You've probably seen Hong Kong Willie's eye-catching
home/gallery/studio at Fletcher Avenue and Interstate 75. But what is
the story of the man behind all those buoys and discarded objects turned
into art?
Brown practiced his creative skills through his younger years. But as
an adult, he managed to amass a small fortune working in the materials
management industry. By the the '80s, he left the business world and
decided to concentrate on his art. He spent some years in the Florida
Keys honing his craft and building his reputation as a folk artist. He
also bought some land in Tampa near Morris Bridge Road and Fletcher
Avenue where he and his family still call home.
Brown purchased the land just after the entrances and exits to I-75
were built. He said he was once offered more than $1 million for the
land by a restaurant. He turned it down, he said, preferring instead to
make part of the property into a studio and gallery for the creations he
and his family put together.
And all of it is made of what most people would consider “trash.”
Pieces of driftwood, burlap bags, doll heads, rope — anything that comes
Brown’s way becomes part of his vocabulary of expression, and, in turn,
becomes something else, which makes a tour of his property somewhat of a
visual adventure. What at first seems like a random menagerie of glass,
driftwood and pottery suddenly comes together in one's brain to form
something completely different. One moment nothing, the next a powerful
statement about 9/11.
One Man's Trash ...
Trash? There is no such thing, Brown seems to say through his art.
He keeps a blog about his art at hongkongwillie.blogspot.com. He also sells his creations through the Website Etsy.com.
In his shop, he has fashioned many smaller items out of driftwood,
burlap bags and other materials into signs, purses, totes, bird feeder
hangars and yard sculptures.
He sells a lot to the regular influx of University of South Florida
parents and students every year who are are at first intrigued by the
“buoy tree” and the odd-looking building they see as they take Exit 266
off I-75.
Brown Sells More Than Art
Of course, the real locals know Brown’s place for the quality of his worms.
If there’s one thing that Brown knows does well in the ground, it’s
the Florida redworm, something he enthusiastically promotes, selling the
indigenous species to customers for use in their compost piles. Some of
his customers say his worms are just as good at the end of a fishing
hook, though.
“To be honest, what made me come here is that they had scriptures on
the top of his bait cans,” said customer John Brin. “Plus, they have
good service. They’re nice and they’re kind, and they treat you like
family.”
Though Brin knows Brown sells them mostly for composting, he said
they are great for catching blue gill, sand perch and other local
favorites. He also added that he likes getting his worms from Brown
“because his bait stays alive longer than any other baits I’ve used.”
For prices and amounts, he has another blog dedicated just to worms.
Of course, many people also stop by to buy the smaller pieces of art
that he and his family create: purses made of burlap, welcome signs made
of driftwood, planters and other items lining the walls of his store.
He’s also helped put his mark on the decor of local establishments too, such as Gaspar’s Patio, 8448 N. 56th st.
Owner Jimmy Ciaccio said that when it came time to redecorate the
restaurant several years ago, there was only one person to call for the
assignment, and that was his good friend Brown.
"I’ve known Joe all my life, and we always had a good chemistry
together,” Ciaccio said. "He’s very creative and fun to be around, and
that’s how it all came about.”
Ciaccio says he still gets compliments all the time for the
restaurant’s atmosphere he created using the “trash” supplied by Brown.
He describes the style as a day at the beach, like a visit to Old Key
West. “They’re so inspired, they want to decorate their own homes this
way,” he said.
It’s that kind of testimony that makes Brown feel good, knowing that
others, too, are inspired to create instead of throw away when they see
his work. He simply lets his work speak for itself.
“Somebody once told me to keep telling the story and they will keep coming," he said, "and they always do."
Tampa gallery practices the art of creative reuse
By Kerry Schofield
The
year was 1958. Joe Brown, 8, lived next to a county dump site in Tampa,
Fla. Brown found old junk, fixed it up and sold it. Brown knew he had a
higher calling in life — he was destined to be an artist.
Brown, who is now 60, makes art from trash at his Hong Kong Willie Art Gallery. He has embellished the outside of the gallery with splashes of Caribbean-color paint and found objects reminiscent of Key West.
Brown
is as colorful as the gallery — he wears a bright tropical shirt with
red, white and blue plaid shorts. Patrons tell him they can smell the
salt water when they drive up. The gallery, however, is perched inland
near Morris Bridge Road and Interstate 75 where a rusty-hair hen named
Fred, first thought to be a rooster, patrols the property. Fred,
abandoned five years ago by tourists, trots between the gallery and
adjacent hotel leaving a trail of droppings behind her.
Brown
lived on the Gunn Highway Landfill from 1958 to 1963. The Hillsborough
County landfill operated for four years and was closed in 1962. “It was
astounding how quick they could fill the 15 acres in pits that were
enormous,” Brown said.
An
apartment complex now sits on top of the old landfill. A report by the
Florida Department of Environmental Protection indicated that a lining
was placed underneath the complex when it was built to block methane gas from leaking. The gas is a byproduct of rotting garbage.
As a child, Brown
lived on his father’s dairy and beef farm. Brown said during heavy
rain, the low land on the farm flooded the neighboring Gunn Highway. In
1957, Hillsborough County officials offered to elevate the low land to
stop the flooding by turning it into a landfill. When the property was
sold in 1984 by Brown’s father, soil testing revealed heaps of old paper
and punctured cans of spray paint.
“They
dug up and took out newspapers like the day they were put in,” Brown
said. “It reminded me of nuclear bombs that were going to go off. They
dumped everything in the landfill.”
As
a child, Brown foraged at nearby dumpsters. County workers saved junk
for him that people dropped off. One day, Brown’s parents got a call
from his elementary school teacher and told them that Brown had $100 in
his pocket and that he must be stealing.
Brown
picked up the saved junk after school and turned it into something new.
Contrary to his elementary school teacher’s accusation, he wasn’t a
thief after all. Instead he was a young entrepreneur who sold other
people’s trash.
“There was so much excess coming into the landfill,” Brown said. “There was so much waste from our society.”
However,
Brown’s mother wanted him to pursue his talents and dreams, not money.
But he developed a business sense during his young junk collecting days
and told his mother, “I’m not going to be an artist. I’ve read that
artists starve to death.”
Brown’s
mother became concerned. He said his mother knew “the value of
happiness and the travels of life” and sent him to a summer art class.
The
art teacher inspired awe in Brown. She taught him how to reuse baby
food jars by melting the glass and adding marbles to the mix to create
paper weights. The teacher had traveled to Hong Kong, China and
Hiroshima, Japan after World War II. She saw how people were forced to
recycle and reuse items out of necessity after the war. This left an
impression on Brown.
It
was at this time that he personified the name Hong Kong Willie, which
harkens back to China where the mass production of merchandise occurs.
The “Willies” are people like Brown and other environmentalists who try
to reuse trash instead of throwing it into landfills.
After
high school, Brown went to college to study business but dropped out
after three years. He worked in the material handling industry until
1981. Although Brown had achieved a successful career and lifestyle, he
had become discouraged in 1979.
“The change came from knowing that I had come to the point of what people call success,” Brown said. “I wasn’t happy inside.”
He
had been diagnosed with depression in 1973, a condition that was caused
from high fructose intake and that lasted for more than four years.
In
1985, Brown and his artist wife, Kim, bought the half-acre property off
Fletcher Avenue and Morris Bridge Road. For two decades the two small
wooden shacks, built around 1965, that now house the gallery operated as
a bait and tackle shop.
Nowadays,
Brown raises and sells worms by the pound mainly for composting. He
recycled 250 thousand pounds in the worm bed in 2009. Brown still sells
the worms for $3.50 a cup for fishing.
In
1981, Brown resurrected the Hong Kong Willie name from his childhood
art class. In the early 1980s, both he and his wife, Kim, began
upcycling trash into art. Brown entered another world when he left his
mainstream lifestyle behind — he joined the art scene and booked rock
bands at the same time.
The
Brown family spent half their time in Tampa and the other half in a
small home on Boot Key Harbor in Marathon. Brown gained the reputation
of the Key West lobster buoy artist.
“I had a total different appearance when in Key West,” Brown said. “I used to have hair down to my waist.”
When Brown came back to Tampa, he lived in the woods for months at a time, much like Henry David Thoreau in “Walden,” who had lived a simple lifestyle in a one room cabin near Walden Pond in Concord, Mass.
Back
in Key West, Brown became friends with local fishermen. He and others
organized efforts to clean up plastic foam buoys that had collected in
the waterways from years of fishing.
“You would go and find buoys floating in the mangroves, up on the shore and they had trashed up everything,” Brown said.
The
Earth Resource Foundation reports that plastic foam is dumped into the
environment. It breaks up into pieces and chokes animals by clogging
their digestive system.
Brown
sells the buoys from the Hong Kong Willie Art Gallery for $2.00 a
piece. He said he has sold from 30 to 40 thousand buoys in the last ten
years. Some of the buoys are more than 50 years old and are collected by
tourists from China and Japan.
“If
you go to the Keys right now and you see a buoy floating, you’ll see
someone slam on the brakes to get it,” Brown said. “They’re the most
prized buoys of the world.”
Brown
made a holiday buoy tree 12 years ago from the Key West buoys. Hundreds
of buoys are strung on rope and wrapped around a utility pole next to
the gallery. Brown hopes the novelty of the buoy tree will inspire and
stimulate children to find new ways to reduce, reuse and recycle
garbage.
In
Kate Shoup’s “Rubbish! Reuse Your Refuse,” the author said much of what
we get is designed to be scrapped after only a few uses. We easily
throw away pens, lighters, razors and dozens of other items. Shoup said
Americans consume 2 million plastic drink bottles every 5 minutes.
Likewise,
Brown finds uses for items that would otherwise end up in a landfill.
He buys used burlap bags from coffee and peanut producers. He sells them
to the U.S. National Forestry Service for the collection of pine seeds
and Samuel Adams for hops production.
Brown and his wife, Kim, also make art hippie bags from the burlap sacks and sell them in the gallery. Kim,
also an artist, paints fish, turtles, crows, parrots and the like on
driftwood and on wood that Brown has salvaged from saw mills and from
old buildings in Key West.
Brown
said art is viewed and appreciated by certain people. “If it all came
out the same, it would be like bland grits all the time,” Brown said. He
likes to refer to the gallery art as reused rather than recycled, which
takes waste and turns it into an inferior product. Reuse on the other
hand involves remaking an item and using it again for the same intended
purpose.
“I
also try to stay away from imprinting a definite use for a definite
item,” Brown said. He explains that 2-liter bottles are not limited to
making bird feeders. The bottles can be used for art and craft projects
as well.
Brown said the larger message he wants to communicate is that the disposal of garbage today is creating a toxic environment.
“I still have the original Gerber baby food bottle that I melted” Brown said. “It’s sitting on my mom’s little table.”
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family art gallery.
Reuse artists from the 1960s.
Morris Bridge Road and Interstate 75, Tampa, Fla.
The garden shrubbery consists of recycled glass bottles and aloe vera plants.
buoy tree.
Hundreds of lobster buoys from Key West, Fla., strung on rope,
wrapped and tied to a utility pole.
orange helicopter that once served in
Vietnam and later used by a radio station.
Key West lobster buoys hang from the small 1950s wood frame building.
Tourists buy the buoys for souvenirs. Some of the buoys are 50 years old.
The exterior of the roadside building is an artful blend of
Caribbean-color paint and found objects.
Seabird plaques, sea glass, melted bottles, painted driftwood
and rusty objects are a few of the items that decorate the wood panels.
Entrance into the small building, which is lined from ceiling to floor
with burlap sacks from South American coffee roasters.
Joe Brown and family also composts and sells worms.
Patrons buy worms for fishing and composting.
They also buy South American burlap coffee bean sacks.
reuse the burlap
and make hippie beach bags.
Hong Kong Willie reuse artists use old clothes, buttons, baseball leather and
yarns to sew and decorate the burlap bags.
View photographs of the Hong Kong Willie art gallery
http://kerryschofieldjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/hong-kong-willie-photomontage.html
BUOY OH BUOY
BITS OF THE BEACH
BILL DURYEA
TIMES STAFF WRITER
A BAY AREA BUSINESS COUPLE SALVAGES DEBRIS FROM THE KEYS THAT CAN BUOY ANY ATMOSPHERE.
TAMPA–
Every month or so, Kim and Joe Brown pile into the family flatbed
truck, he one that’s decorated with multi-colored stencils of fern
fronds, and drive down to Key West.
There,
they inevitably find what they’re looking for: a few thousand discarded
plastic foam crab and lobster buoys, maybe a battered surf board or a
life preserver. After a week or so, they strap the whole load down, turn
the truck around and head home to Fletcher Avenue at Interstate-75,
where they have lived for nearly 25 years.
If
you’ve driven by there recently, and you’d know if you’d had, then you
have a pretty good idea, of what the Brown’s do with the buoys once they
get them off the truck.
They
wrap them around metal poles, until they resemble marshmellow Christmas
trees. They festoon them outside the gift and bait shop they run. They
line their parking lot with them.
“It
can drive you crazy,” Kim Brown said as she stared at a mound of them.
“There’s got to be something else to do with them. I was thinking maybe
I’d cut them in half and make them into little planters.”
Occasionaly,
a restaurant owner who fancies a nautical theme will relieve them of a
few thousand buoys. Sometimes a home owner from New Tampa wants a dozen
for his new poolside bar.
But
generally speaking, the treasures of the Key West trips come in at a
rate far faster than they go out. Doesn’t matter a bit to the Browns.
“I
have a pretty good life. I don’t have to bust my butt,” Kim Brown said.
“I don’t make a lot of money, but when someone likes my stuff, that’s
cool.”
In
a corner of Tampa dominated by late-arriving corporate parks and hotel
chains, they live a life of enviable self-sufficiency. If they appear
eccentric, it is only by the relelentlessly conformist standards of
their neighbors. If the decor appears kitschy, maybe it’s because we’ve
lost touch with what’s truly authentic.
On
a recent morning, Kim Brown was giving an impromptu tour to a surprise
visitor. She was wearing a loose-fitting white shirt and a long gray
cotton skirt. Walking around in her tanned bare feet and sunglasses she
seemed glamorous and unfussy. She casually mentions her age, 46, without
a trace of self-consciousness.
The
sky was threatening rain and that wasn’t doing much for sales at A-24
Hour Bait. “Fish are going to eat today,” she says, shaking her head at
the squandered opportunity.
But it gave her time to tell some stories.
“Those
rings, they came from a Cuban refugee raft,” she says, indicating a
clump of artifacts outside thet baitshop. ” When I can, I take a picture
of the man or the woman and that becomes part of the story of what we
sell.”
She
grabbed a bass lure dangling from the inside of a metal cylinder and
gave it a good tug. It clanged loudly. “We make the bells out of dive
tanks that were going to be thrown away,” she says.
“I’ve got a real nice anchor. It’s over 100 years old. That came from a Cuban who got it caught in his lobster traps.”
“The
Lobster guys are lucky,” she says with real admiration in her voice.
“They find this stuff all the time, just floating out there.”
Kim
grew up near Lowry Park Zoo. Her husband was raised out on Anderson
Road. They met in 1981, the circumstances of which are one of a few
stories she’s reluctant to tell in detail. At the time she was boarding
horses across the road in what is now the Hidden River Corporate Park.
“When
I met Joe, he was in a suit and tie. He always had a thousand dollars
on his back,” she said. He was in the materials handling business, but
it wasn’t long for that corporate life.
They
saw some land was available for sale on Morris Bridge Road, the part
where it bends in the southwest corner of I-75 and Fletcher. The acre or
so had a worm farm on it when they bought it. The previous owner had a
Coca-Cola cooler out front, and fishermen on their way to the
Hillsborough River would come by and fill a can with worms, leave a
little money in a cup. All on the honour system.
“That
tapered off. Fishng wasn’t simple anymore. You couldn’t just get a cane
pole and a can of worms and go catch some dinner,” Kim says. “Now
you’ve got to have permits and expensive reels and the latest lure.”
“That’s why we kind of went back to our art.”
In
the early 1990’s they made their first trip down to the keys. They
began to meet fishermen. They stayed in their homes, ate dinner with
them. Joined in the parties at the beginning of stone crab season.
It
wasn’t long before they saw all the buoys overflowing the trash cans.
Buoys generally last a few years. Turtles gnaw them. Storms scatter
them. Sun and salt bleach them.
“Hey, we can do something with those,” Kim remembers saying. “We make something out of nothing.”
The
gift shop, known as Hong Kong Willie, is full of stuff that was
perilously close to oblivion before the Browns identified some hidden
potential.
Kim
makes “coconut grams”. They’re painted coconuts with a space clearly
marked for the address. There’s not much room for the message. But the
U.S. Postal Service will actually deliver them, Kim says.
The
gift shop’s ceiling is packed with coffee sacks. Glass bottles that
have been heated in the Brown’s kilns sit on shelves slumped like Dali
clocks. Gnarled pieces of polished Lignum Vitae are scattered about;
Kim’s son Derek, 22, is responsible for that work.
Nothing
has a price, because prices depend on too many variables for it to be
worth specifying. (A string of five buoys will cost you $12.99, though
the price drops for bulk purchases.) But whenever possible a piece will
come with a picture of the shop, or of the person who provided the
piece, to commemorate the item’s passage
through history.
“This
telephone was on Duval Street,” Kim says. “It’s got all these names and
numbers written on the side. And a picture of a raccoon on the front.
Who knows why?”
The
demand for items such as this is unpredictable. Ditto the 1961 mailbox
with the rusted front. But the Browns’ customers tend to share their
enthusiasm.
“I
bought 1,200 buoys a month ago,” said Jimmy Ciaccio, owner of Gaspar’s,
a restaurant on 56th Street in Temple Terrace that has a brand new
patio with an aggressive Key West theme.
“I
must have 3,000 of them around here,” Ciaccio says as he walks the
deck, talking a torrent. “I got a raft, those traps, they all came from
Joe. I’ve bought a lot of novelty stuff from them. That’s what they’re
all about and that’s what we’re all about. And there’s always a story
behind everything. I love that. He gave me that thing, it’s like a piece
of wood or something I don’t know what it is, but it’s from Key West.
We’ve got that chemistry.”
If
there were a few more customers as fervid as Ciaccio, Kim Brown might
not be toying with the idea of getting into the food business. But there
aren’t and she is.
“Not
everybody wants a buoy or a bell,” Kim says. “But everyone wants to
drink a cup of coffee. I don’t want to be a Starbucks but maybe a little
coffee shop. Maybe a good Cuban sandwich.”
“But
then you get into hiring and firing. I’ve got friends in the retaurant
business. I see how hard they work. It’s never-ending,” she says,
beginning to argue with herself. “I just don’t want to work that hard.”
She circles back to a calm contentment with life as it is currently defined.
“We’re happy. We don’t want to sell. We’re not rich, but we pay our bills.
click to enlarge
Drive south on I-75, look to the right around East Fletcher
Avenue, and you can't miss it. The tree appears first, hundreds of
buoys wrapped around its branches, resembling a sort of Dr. Seuss-ian
Christmas ornament. Then the rest of the 20,000 buoys come into view --
thousands of strands of the multicolored foam balls stretching from the
tree to two wooden shacks, hanging from their roofs and walls, and
stretched out over the property.
Strewn about the lawn is a menagerie of surfboards, car doors, CB
radios, wooden sculptures and painted signs. A 1979 Ford pickup sits in
the front driveway, painted with a rainbow of colors, four racks of
antlers affixed to its roof. An old stuffed caribou sits in a lawn chair
beckoning visitors.
Of the thousands of motorists who pass by this eclectic landmark off
Exit 266 every day, few stop in the funky gift shop and Key West-themed
folk art gallery that is Hong Kong Willie's. But this is not your
typical roadside store selling cheesy Florida magnets and beach T-shirts
(although they have those, too). From the moment the owners come out to
greet you, it's clear that for them this isn't just a business -- it's a
lifestyle.
As I step out of my car, Joe Brown ambles toward me wearing a red
Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. With his disheveled shoulder-length
brown hair and strong jaw line, Brown, 56, looks a lot like Mel Gibson
in Braveheart. He ends most of his sentences with "Do you follow
me?" and stares with wild gray eyes until you nod in agreement. His
46-year-old wife, Kim, who bears a strong resemblance to Grace Slick,
sits near the shop's open sign, branding her latest creation. Wearing
large sunglasses, she gives a smile, hardly looking up.
Joe and Kim -- Tampa natives -- bought the half-acre property off
Fletcher Avenue and Morris Bridge Road in 1985. For the next two
decades, the Browns operated A-24 Hour Bait and Tackle, living on the
premises and bagging worms for K-Mart and Wal-Mart to make a few extra
bucks. But in 2001, they decided to abandon fish food to pursue the
fickle business of art, although they will tell you Hong Kong Willie's
was always "part of the journey."
"We were artists," says Joe. "We were born that way. We had no choice. You follow me?"
The underlying theme of Hong Kong Willie's is creating art out of
objects destined for the landfill, and while browsing the items, I get
the feeling the Browns are trying to make a point rather than a sale.
"Thirty percent of the gifts given will be in the dumpster by next
Christmas," Joe says. "Most Christmas gifts will be given because they
think they have to. Very few will have a social impact."
Every item at Hong Kong Willie's is either art made out of an object
destined for the landfill or products that other companies were throwing
away and the Browns retrieved before they made it to the dumpster. But
don't call this recycled art. The Browns prefer "preservation."
Recycling implies the material will be used for the same purpose. "If
you get stuck in that word, then you get stuck in that form," Joe
explains. Instead, the Browns create a whole new use for an item that
would have been otherwise thrown away.
Kim looks up from her painting after Joe finishes his long ramble.
"We've always been able to take nothing and make something out of it,"
she says.
Although most people assume Joe is "Hong Kong Willie," he says the
name refers to the origin of junk: Hong Kong produces much of the
useless merchandise that Americans buy and quickly throw away, he says.
So it's up to the Willies of the world -- i.e. the Browns and other
conservationists -- to find new uses for the trash.
"All of us who believe what we believe is Hong Kong Willie," Joe says.
The gift shop is a space not much bigger than a tool shed, cluttered
with handmade candles, pottery, ceramic figures and deer skulls painted
tie-dye style. Joe, who's not content to allow me to wander by myself,
darts from item to item, sharing each one's origins. One of the first
objects he shows me is an old scuba tank cut in half, stenciled with
yellow and purple spray paint with a weighted rope attached on the
inside. What would have been a heavy addition to a landfill or junkyard,
the Browns now sell as a nautical-themed bell. Another popular item: a
used Starbucks Frappuccino bottle filled with sand and shells, and the
words "Florida Beachfront Property" written in paint on it.
"Is it really pragmatic to say this had one life -- to have
Frappuccino in it?" he says, holding up the $3 gift. "That's not true.
You follow me?"
Joe picks up a droopy glass vase -- the result of an Arizona Ice Tea
bottle stuck in a kiln for too long. He says it's a collector's item:
Only 300 were made and none look alike.
"People really want something that is one of a kind and something
that means something," he says, holding up the vase and pointing to a
stack of Beanie Babies. "Which one is the real collectible? The one that
cannot be copied or the one that is mass-produced just on a small
scale? You follow me?"
Most of the materials the Browns work with come from Key West. Every
few months they hop in the pickup, drive the 425 miles to the Keys and
start looking for the junk no one else wants: used dive tanks, the
lobster trap buoys, burlap bags and even old wooden planks from ships or
homes destroyed by storms.
In fact, the latter is one of their biggest sellers. They bring back
an imperfect piece of lumber, slap some urethane on it and Kim paints
everything from colorful fish and birds to old Key West landmarks on it.
Every piece is branded, marked with a lobster cage tag and affixed with
brass rings or forks with which to hang them. In the building opposite
the gift shop, among stuffed animals and fish (Joe was once a
taxidermist), 30 of these painted planks hang from the walls.
Customers are few at Hong Kong Willie's, but the Browns say they're
doing well. They never try to push their art on anyone, figuring that if
someone stops and buys something, it was meant to be. ("A piece of art
is a love affair," Kim says.) They count Gaspar's Patio Bar and Grille
in Temple Terrace as one of their best customers. Their other business
comes from Tampa residents looking to add a tiki feel to their
backyards. Among Joe's most popular creations are old car doors
outfitted with waterproof speakers. A few Key West bars bought the
unique sound systems to hang from their ceilings.
But the Browns are not just content to sell their art to passersby --
they want to live the ideals that inspire their art. The couple is
working on getting their business off the electrical grid and powered
completely by solar energy. Kim wants to start a coffee and ice cream
shop with free wireless Internet to bring in likeminded people. Joe
wants to be in the Guinness Book of World Records for hanging the
greatest number of buoys to a structure (it's not a category yet). And
they're always trying to find new uses for the trash they see lining
area roads.
"We're not just sitting out here being weird," Joe says suddenly.
"We're actually taking objects and making these thousands of people say,
'What's that?' We're doing it because it's the right thing to do."
His eyes get wide.
"You follow me?"
ROADSIDE ATTRACTION
Jim Tunstall TAMPA TRIBUNE
A break with the mainstream led a couple to their own little corner of happiness from another day in time.
”
I believe every individual has a purpose. When you start going on your
journey to discover yours, you learn some things along the way.”
JOE BROWN
Joe Brown loves to express himself.
If
you want to see how, take a spin by his place on the southwest corner
of Interstate 75 and Fletcher Avenue. His yard is coiffed with a sassy
blend of crab-trap buoys, bottle art, fishy wind socks and a dog and two
cats that co-exist on a mainly peaceful basis.
Then there’s the man. Brown, a page out of the 1960’s better side, owns A-24 Hour Bait and Tackle.
On
one hand, he’s private enough not to want his photograph taken, on the
other, he’s gregarious enough to talk the ears off anyone interested in
fishing. Fact is, this 51-year-old Tampa native is primed to gab about
next best to anything on the minds of his visitors, including the way
things used to be.
Like in 1983 when he and his wife, Kim, planted roots on this corner and the new Interstate was their only new neighbor.
Before
that, Brown had been part of the establishment, but he chucked his
mainstream career and spent 3 years on a 700-hundred acre spread across
Fletcher, searching for himself.
I was seriously unhappy,” he says.
“I
left (the job) Nov. 13, 1981. That Date, the moment I left the office,
it blazed in my brain, I was 31 and dealing with severe depression.”
One day he heard a voice.
“People
will tell you you’ve got serious problems when you hear voices,” he
says behind a grin. “But this wasn’t that kind of experience. It just
said, ‘Joe, what if it gets better?’”
Well, slowly it did.
He and Kim took an option on the corner that been home to a worm farm for 25 years.
” The worm business was at it’s ebb,” Brown says.
” I bought it to sell. I had no idea I was going to continue it.”
Over
the years, neighbors started putting down roots to the west, including
apartment complexes and more than a half dozen hotels, such as Extended
Stay America and Residence Inn.
The
bait and tackle business stayed reasonably strong until the economy
went south last year, Brown says, adding that he still carries a full
line of rods, reels, cane poles, lures, crickets, shiners, and shrimp.
” But we did a lot a wholesale and we lost 90 percent of that business Sep. 11,” he says.” ” That’s dead. It’s not coming back.”
Fortunately the Browns have branched out.
Last year, they opened a gift shop that sells gator heads, sea shells, stuffed critters, t-shirts, and other trinkets.
Brown
also started dabbling in bottle art — melting everything from vodka to
Sprite bottles, reshaping them then letting them cool and harden.
Through the last 20 years, he seems to have learned to be a survivor.
He’s also learned his reason for being on this corner.
“I believe every individual has a purpose,” he says, turning serious for a moment.
“When
you start going on your journey to discover yours, you learn some
things along the way. I like working with the public and making them
happy. And if you’re doing what you want to do, it’s a beautiful thing.”
John 3:16
King James Version (KJV)
16For God so
loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
FUNDING FOR THIS PROGRAM IS MADE POSSIBLE BY THE
S.L. GIMBEL FOUNDATION.
IN THIS EDITION OF "WEDU ARTS PLUS,Hongkongwillie
A LOCAL ARTS AND ARTIFACTS BUSINESS TRANSFORMS TRASH
INTO TREASURE.
>> I THINK I WAS MEANT TO TELL THE STORY ABOUT REUSE.
THE PERSON IS NOT IMPORTANT.
THE STORY IS IMPORTANT.
AS A BOY, JOE BROWN WATCHED GARBAGE TRUCKS HAUL TRASH TO A
DUMP ON HIS FAMILY PROPERTY.
TODAY, HE RUNS A TAMPA PRESERVATION ART BUSINESS CALLED HONG
KONG WILLIE, WHERE BURLAP BAGS AND LOBSTER BUOYS ARE
CONVERTED TO WORKS OF ART.
>> MY NAME IS JOE BROWN.
MY ART NAME IS HONG KONG WILLIE.
I AM A REUSE ARTIST TAKING MEDIA THAT WOULD HAVE NATURALLY
BEEN DISPOSED OF IN LANDFILLS AND ADDING THE GIFT THAT I'VE
BEEN GIVEN TO MAKE SOMETHING THAT SOMEBODY POSSIBLY MIGHT
HAVE AN ALLUREMENT TO AND ATTRACTION TO.
REUSE AND RECYCLING CAME FROM BEING RAISED ON A LANDFILL ON
GUNN HIGHWAY HERE IN TAMPA.
IT WAS AN ENTRAPPING WAY WITH VERY LITTLE FUNDS TO MAKE
SOMETHING THAT WAS ATTRACTIVE AND REWARDING TO ME
PERSONALLY.
¶¶
>> ACQUIRING MEDIA, SUCH AS BOARDS, STARTED WHEN WE WERE
PICKING UP BOARDS MAYBE FROM BUILDINGS THAT HAD BEEN
DESTROYED FROM THE HURRICANES.
BOARDS THAT CAME FROM HISTORICAL BUILDINGS IN THE KEYS.
SOME OF THE REAL THICK, THICK HEAVY BOARDS WERE BOARDS THAT
I THINK WERE CUT ROUGH CUT.
THE SMOOTHNESS CAME OUT OF MANY YEARS OF WEARING.
WE ACQUIRED SOME BOARDS THAT CAME FROM THE ORIGINAL RAILROAD
BRIDGE THAT FLAGLER BUILT.
I THINK ALL ARTISTS SOMETIMES INVOKE THE FEELINGS AND THE
STORIES ABOUT THE MEDIA THAT THEY ARE WORKING WITH.
I THINK THAT ART, ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE FALLS IN LOVE WITH
IT, THEY WANT TO KNOW THE STORY.
AND BECAUSE OF THE KEYS HAVING THE TREMENDOUS EFFECT THAT IT
HAS ON US, AND BECAUSE OF WHAT HAS SHAPED THE KEYS, THERE
COMES A TIME WHERE ALL OF IT COMES TOGETHER AND THAT'S WHAT
MAKES IT SO SPECIAL.
THROUGHOUT THE YEARS, THE OUTSIDE OF THE BUILDING CHANGES
WITH DIFFERENT MEDIA THAT WE'VE ACQUIRED.
AS YOU DRIVE IN THE DRIVEWAY, YOU'LL SEE HAND PRINTS AND
SOME SPRINKLED PAINT WITH ACTIVITY.
WE TRY TO USE LITTLE DIFFERENT MINIPICTURES OUT THERE WHERE
YOU MIGHT SEE A SIGN HANGING ON A TENNIS SHOE WITH A TV
REMOTE.
SHOES THAT HAVE FLOATED UP FROM THE OCEANS THAT WE'VE USED
SOMETIMES TO INVOKE THOUGHTS OF WHERE WE WERE AT A
PARTICULAR TIME.
THE TRAVELS OF THOSE SHOES.
THERE ARE BOARDS OUT THERE THAT WE'VE ACQUIRED THAT WE'VE
MADE LITTLE DESIGNS ON.
I FOUND THAT MOST WOOD, PROBABLY THE WORK IS ALREADY THERE.
YOU'RE GOING TO DO A LITTLE BIT OF SHAVING, A LITTLE BIT OF
CARVING.
BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, THE OBJECT IS FINISHED.
AFTER 9/11 HAPPENED, I REALIZED HOW GREAT A MIRACLE WAS.
I HAD A LOT OF MEDIA AROUND AND I STARTED WITH THE CROSS.
AND I PUT THE CROSS UP.
THEN I HAD SOME LITTLE OBJECTS THAT WERE POLICEMEN AND
FIREMEN, AND I PUT THEM IN THERE.
AND THEN I HAD SOME OLD BEEPERS FOR THE TECHNOLOGY, AND THEN
ANOTHER TWO OBJECTS THAT WERE SHERLOCK HOLMES AND NAPOLEON
FOR POWER AND INVESTIGATING.
I LOOKED OVER IN A PILE OF WOOD, AND THERE WAS A SHAPE OF A
PIECE OF WOOD AND A NINE.
NEXT TO IT WAS TWO PIECES THAT LOOKED LIKE 11.
BEFORE I KNEW IT, IT ALL CAME TOGETHER.
I BELIEVE THAT EVERYONE IS AN ARTIST.
AS TO WHERE IF WE CAN FIND MEDIA THAT'S EASILY OBTAINABLE
AND ADD OUR TALENTS TO IT, IT BECOMES VERY REWARDING IN THAT
FACTOR, BECAUSE WE HAVE LESSENED THE COMPLICATED FACTOR AND
TAKEN SOMETHING THAT'S WITHIN US AND HAD THE MEDIA AND THEN
GIVING US SOMETHING THAT HAS SOME KIND OF APPEAL TO EITHER
OURSELVES OR SOMEONE.
I THINK I WAS MEANT TO TELL THE STORY ABOUT REUSE.
I THINK I AM JUST A PERSON THAT'S IN THIS ELEMENT TELLING A
STORY.
THE PERSON IS NOT IMPORTANT.
THE STORY IS IMPORTANT.
..
Blue Marlin Dream of Key West.
$225,000 Hong Kong Willie Art
The Gunn Highway Landfill is located
off Gunn Highway in Tampa, Hillsborough
County, Florida. The county operated the landfill
as a trench-type facility for the disposal
of MSW from 1958 to 1962.
It,(was the dump) that had all this media, and a young enterprising mind. Not enough time to capture it all.
Published in TB2
BY SOHINI LAHIRI
Growing up in Tampa, I spent a period of time fascinated by a quirky,
eye-catching landmark at Fletcher Avenue and Interstate 75. This was
also the period of time I spent obsessed with making binoculars out of
toilet paper rolls and necklaces out of pop tops. To me, this sight was
the epitome of similar creative craziness, and I often found myself
looking for it during car journeys, hoping it hadn’t disappeared
overnight.
But time passes and so does the urge for pop-top necklaces, and
observant eyes don’t notice the same sights. It wasn’t until recently
that I once again took note of the scene, with its broken down orange
helicopter, a tree made of what seems to be indestructible balloons and a
blue-and-white house covered with trash remade into art.
It’s the home of Hong Kong Willie, artist of reuse.
I finally paid a visit to this art gallery after many years of
wondering about the story behind it. The pavement leading to the door is
painted with handprints and splatters, the store edged with upside down
Coke bottles. Streams of lobster buoys hang from the roof and also make
up the “tree” I marveled at so often from my car window.
Various shoes, bottles, clocks and signs are glued to the side of the
store, and there’s a tribute to Sept. 11 off to the side. No one seemed
to be home, so I called the number on the “WE’RE OPEN” sign, which
brought a middle-aged man in a bright Hawaiian shirt from behind the
store.
After a few basic questions, Joe Brown begins to open up about the history surrounding his art.
Brown, better known as Hong Kong Willie, says he was an artist from the
start. “Everyone is born an artist,” he said. “However some are granted
the gift of being able to express that art.”
As a young boy, his mother decided to send him to art school, which he says changed the course of his life forever.
At the age of 8, Brown recalls being heavily influenced by the lessons,
which included transforming a Gerber baby bottle, something with no
real value, into a piece of art. His teacher had spent an enormous
amount of time and effort in Hiroshima, Japan, helping those affected by
the atomic bombs. Brown learned many lessons about recycling from this
teacher, who had come from Hong Kong. Brown added an American name,
Willie, to Hong Kong for his nickname Hong Kong Willie.
While Brown grew up to be an artist, he left the world of mainstream art to return to his background in technology.
“But on Nov. 13th, 1981 … on a Friday at 1:30 in the afternoon, I had
an epiphany,” Brown says. “I was at a friend’s house right across the
street,” pausing to point at a row of apartments across from his store,
“and a series of events led me to rejoin the art world.”
With the help of two other artists, Brown set up his business in the
Florida Keys in the early 1980s, then moved it to Tampa. Together, they
believed that they were predestined for the Green Movement, and have
been making art out of recyclables for close to 30 years.
How’s business? He smiles. “It’s pretty wild.”
Inside, Hong Kong Willie’s art includes glossy pieces of driftwood
restored and painted with beautiful landscapes and kernels of truth,
some of the gorgeous work priced in the six figures. But there’s also a
wide collection of handmade bags, wooden sculptures and sassy bracelets
for more moderate prices.
A portion of the proceeds go to benefit the Green Movement, Brown says.
With a laid-back swagger, Brown continues. “We live pretty minimally.
And all the funds we get from donations and our art sales are delegated
to green projects.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting when I decided to visit Hong Kong
Willie. Certainly not the breathtaking art inside, and definitely not
the history behind it. I’m feeling thick-headed for not visiting years
ago, and say so.
Brown offers a last bit of insight:
“I’m a big believer in predestination and timing. If someone is not
ready to view art, the door is closed. Every piece of art that is made,
and every project we do is done for a reason. It doesn’t matter if that
reason shows up the next day, or walks in six years later; every piece
of art will find a home.”
To Live a life in the art world and be so blessed to make a social
impact. Artists are to give back, talent is to tell a story, to make
change. Reuse is a life experience
Famous Key West Lobster Buoy Artist Hongkongwillie Art
MYSTERIOSITY
$176,000 U.S. Dollars
Hong Kong Willie Gallery
.
"Black Bird of Key Largo"
The
allurement of the winds blowing in the palm trees and the moon shining
through and the "Black Bird of Key Largo" looking upon.
Hong Kong Willie
**HONG
KONG WILLIE artist Kim Brown, chose aged Florida sawmill stock as
canvas. Recovered Brass Hanger: Key West lobster trap rigging.
Originally connects and suspends rigging of spiny lobster traps in Key
West waters. Candy-like appearance due to multiple protective layers.
Assigned number in artist register by Fisherman ID tag, corresponding
burn-etched # rear of piece. Key recovered by Robert Jordan, acclaimed
treasure hunter: also in identification of piece and artist.
Dimensions:
24" L
8" W
4" H
Weight: 17+ LB
.
John 3:16
King James Version (KJV)
16For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
.
Eye of Toucan - Hong Kong WIllie
Original Art $8100.00
To Buy Click This Link
Hong Kong Willie "Eye of Toucan"
Authentic Key West influenced art. What once would have been sawdust spread to the wind, is now what you see here.
Superior reuse of materials.
Wood Source: Aged Sawmill Stock
Copper Hanger Source: Reclaimed Wire
Backing Screw Source: Reclaimed Brass Screw
Key West Fisherman ID Tag Referenced in Artists Log
Hong Kong Willie Artist: Kim Brown
.
.
Key West Used Lobster Buoys Styrofoam objects which can be used for many craft or nautical design purposes. Used to decorate Tiki huts, Key West
lobster floats give you that nautical feeling of a private Key West
island in your back yard. Prepare yourself for Christmas using these
buoys making your Nautical Snowman.
Three Key West Buoys Included on Key West Rope.
Key West Used Lobster Buoys
Key West Lobster Buoy Artist
.
.
By Kerry Schofield
The year was 1958. Joe Brown, 8, lived next to a county dump site in Tampa, Fla. Brown found old junk, fixed it up and sold it. Brown knew he had a higher calling in life — he was destined to be an artist.
“I still have the original Gerber baby food bottle that I melted” Brown said. “It’s sitting on my mom’s little table.”
.
View photographs of the Hong Kong Willie art gallery
http://kerryschofieldjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/hong-kong-willie-photomontage.html
BUOY OH BUOY
BITS OF THE BEACH
BILL DURYEA
TIMES STAFF WRITER
A BAY AREA BUSINESS COUPLE SALVAGES DEBRIS FROM THE KEYS THAT CAN BUOY ANY ATMOSPHERE.
TAMPA– Every month or so, Kim and Joe Brown pile into the family flatbed truck, he one that’s decorated with multi-colored stencils of fern fronds, and drive down to Key West.
There, they inevitably find what they’re looking for: a few thousand discarded plastic foam crab and lobster buoys, maybe a battered surf board or a life preserver. After a week or so, they strap the whole load down, turn the truck around and head home to Fletcher Avenue at Interstate-75, where they have lived for nearly 25 years.
If you’ve driven by there recently, and you’d know if you’d had, then you have a pretty good idea, of what the Brown’s do with the buoys once they get them off the truck.
They wrap them around metal poles, until they resemble marshmellow Christmas trees. They festoon them outside the gift and bait shop they run. They line their parking lot with them.
“It can drive you crazy,” Kim Brown said as she stared at a mound of them. “There’s got to be something else to do with them. I was thinking maybe I’d cut them in half and make them into little planters.”
Occasionaly, a restaurant owner who fancies a nautical theme will relieve them of a few thousand buoys. Sometimes a home owner from New Tampa wants a dozen for his new poolside bar.
But generally speaking, the treasures of the Key West trips come in at a rate far faster than they go out. Doesn’t matter a bit to the Browns.
“I have a pretty good life. I don’t have to bust my butt,” Kim Brown said. “I don’t make a lot of money, but when someone likes my stuff, that’s cool.”
In a corner of Tampa dominated by late-arriving corporate parks and hotel chains, they live a life of enviable self-sufficiency. If they appear eccentric, it is only by the relelentlessly conformist standards of their neighbors. If the decor appears kitschy, maybe it’s because we’ve lost touch with what’s truly authentic.
On a recent morning, Kim Brown was giving an impromptu tour to a surprise visitor. She was wearing a loose-fitting white shirt and a long gray cotton skirt. Walking around in her tanned bare feet and sunglasses she seemed glamorous and unfussy. She casually mentions her age, 46, without a trace of self-consciousness.
The sky was threatening rain and that wasn’t doing much for sales at A-24 Hour Bait. “Fish are going to eat today,” she says, shaking her head at the squandered opportunity.
But it gave her time to tell some stories.
“Those rings, they came from a Cuban refugee raft,” she says, indicating a clump of artifacts outside thet baitshop. ” When I can, I take a picture of the man or the woman and that becomes part of the story of what we sell.”
She grabbed a bass lure dangling from the inside of a metal cylinder and gave it a good tug. It clanged loudly. “We make the bells out of dive tanks that were going to be thrown away,” she says.
“I’ve got a real nice anchor. It’s over 100 years old. That came from a Cuban who got it caught in his lobster traps.”
“The Lobster guys are lucky,” she says with real admiration in her voice. “They find this stuff all the time, just floating out there.”
Kim grew up near Lowry Park Zoo. Her husband was raised out on Anderson Road. They met in 1981, the circumstances of which are one of a few stories she’s reluctant to tell in detail. At the time she was boarding horses across the road in what is now the Hidden River Corporate Park.
“When I met Joe, he was in a suit and tie. He always had a thousand dollars on his back,” she said. He was in the materials handling business, but it wasn’t long for that corporate life.
They saw some land was available for sale on Morris Bridge Road, the part where it bends in the southwest corner of I-75 and Fletcher. The acre or so had a worm farm on it when they bought it. The previous owner had a Coca-Cola cooler out front, and fishermen on their way to the Hillsborough River would come by and fill a can with worms, leave a little money in a cup. All on the honour system.
“That tapered off. Fishng wasn’t simple anymore. You couldn’t just get a cane pole and a can of worms and go catch some dinner,” Kim says. “Now you’ve got to have permits and expensive reels and the latest lure.”
“That’s why we kind of went back to our art.”
In the early 1990’s they made their first trip down to the keys. They began to meet fishermen. They stayed in their homes, ate dinner with them. Joined in the parties at the beginning of stone crab season.
It wasn’t long before they saw all the buoys overflowing the trash cans. Buoys generally last a few years. Turtles gnaw them. Storms scatter them. Sun and salt bleach them.
“Hey, we can do something with those,” Kim remembers saying. “We make something out of nothing.”
The gift shop, known as Hong Kong Willie, is full of stuff that was perilously close to oblivion before the Browns identified some hidden potential.
Kim makes “coconut grams”. They’re painted coconuts with a space clearly marked for the address. There’s not much room for the message. But the U.S. Postal Service will actually deliver them, Kim says.
The gift shop’s ceiling is packed with coffee sacks. Glass bottles that have been heated in the Brown’s kilns sit on shelves slumped like Dali clocks. Gnarled pieces of polished Lignum Vitae are scattered about; Kim’s son Derek, 22, is responsible for that work.
Nothing has a price, because prices depend on too many variables for it to be worth specifying. (A string of five buoys will cost you $12.99, though the price drops for bulk purchases.) But whenever possible a piece will come with a picture of the shop, or of the person who provided the piece, to commemorate the item’s passage
through history.
“This telephone was on Duval Street,” Kim says. “It’s got all these names and numbers written on the side. And a picture of a raccoon on the front. Who knows why?”
The demand for items such as this is unpredictable. Ditto the 1961 mailbox with the rusted front. But the Browns’ customers tend to share their enthusiasm.
“I bought 1,200 buoys a month ago,” said Jimmy Ciaccio, owner of Gaspar’s, a restaurant on 56th Street in Temple Terrace that has a brand new patio with an aggressive Key West theme.
“I must have 3,000 of them around here,” Ciaccio says as he walks the deck, talking a torrent. “I got a raft, those traps, they all came from Joe. I’ve bought a lot of novelty stuff from them. That’s what they’re all about and that’s what we’re all about. And there’s always a story behind everything. I love that. He gave me that thing, it’s like a piece of wood or something I don’t know what it is, but it’s from Key West. We’ve got that chemistry.”
If there were a few more customers as fervid as Ciaccio, Kim Brown might not be toying with the idea of getting into the food business. But there aren’t and she is.
“Not everybody wants a buoy or a bell,” Kim says. “But everyone wants to drink a cup of coffee. I don’t want to be a Starbucks but maybe a little coffee shop. Maybe a good Cuban sandwich.”
“But then you get into hiring and firing. I’ve got friends in the retaurant business. I see how hard they work. It’s never-ending,” she says, beginning to argue with herself. “I just don’t want to work that hard.”
She circles back to a calm contentment with life as it is currently defined.
“We’re happy. We don’t want to sell. We’re not rich, but we pay our bills.
16For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
FUNDING FOR THIS PROGRAM IS MADE POSSIBLE BY THE
S.L. GIMBEL FOUNDATION.
IN THIS EDITION OF "WEDU ARTS PLUS,Hongkongwillie
A LOCAL ARTS AND ARTIFACTS BUSINESS TRANSFORMS TRASH
INTO TREASURE.
>> I THINK I WAS MEANT TO TELL THE STORY ABOUT REUSE.
THE PERSON IS NOT IMPORTANT.
THE STORY IS IMPORTANT.
AS A BOY, JOE BROWN WATCHED GARBAGE TRUCKS HAUL TRASH TO A
DUMP ON HIS FAMILY PROPERTY.
TODAY, HE RUNS A TAMPA PRESERVATION ART BUSINESS CALLED HONG
KONG WILLIE, WHERE BURLAP BAGS AND LOBSTER BUOYS ARE
CONVERTED TO WORKS OF ART.
>> MY NAME IS JOE BROWN.
MY ART NAME IS HONG KONG WILLIE.
I AM A REUSE ARTIST TAKING MEDIA THAT WOULD HAVE NATURALLY
BEEN DISPOSED OF IN LANDFILLS AND ADDING THE GIFT THAT I'VE
BEEN GIVEN TO MAKE SOMETHING THAT SOMEBODY POSSIBLY MIGHT
HAVE AN ALLUREMENT TO AND ATTRACTION TO.
REUSE AND RECYCLING CAME FROM BEING RAISED ON A LANDFILL ON
GUNN HIGHWAY HERE IN TAMPA.
IT WAS AN ENTRAPPING WAY WITH VERY LITTLE FUNDS TO MAKE
SOMETHING THAT WAS ATTRACTIVE AND REWARDING TO ME
PERSONALLY.
¶¶
>> ACQUIRING MEDIA, SUCH AS BOARDS, STARTED WHEN WE WERE
PICKING UP BOARDS MAYBE FROM BUILDINGS THAT HAD BEEN
DESTROYED FROM THE HURRICANES.
BOARDS THAT CAME FROM HISTORICAL BUILDINGS IN THE KEYS.
SOME OF THE REAL THICK, THICK HEAVY BOARDS WERE BOARDS THAT
I THINK WERE CUT ROUGH CUT.
THE SMOOTHNESS CAME OUT OF MANY YEARS OF WEARING.
WE ACQUIRED SOME BOARDS THAT CAME FROM THE ORIGINAL RAILROAD
BRIDGE THAT FLAGLER BUILT.
I THINK ALL ARTISTS SOMETIMES INVOKE THE FEELINGS AND THE
STORIES ABOUT THE MEDIA THAT THEY ARE WORKING WITH.
I THINK THAT ART, ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE FALLS IN LOVE WITH
IT, THEY WANT TO KNOW THE STORY.
AND BECAUSE OF THE KEYS HAVING THE TREMENDOUS EFFECT THAT IT
HAS ON US, AND BECAUSE OF WHAT HAS SHAPED THE KEYS, THERE
COMES A TIME WHERE ALL OF IT COMES TOGETHER AND THAT'S WHAT
MAKES IT SO SPECIAL.
THROUGHOUT THE YEARS, THE OUTSIDE OF THE BUILDING CHANGES
WITH DIFFERENT MEDIA THAT WE'VE ACQUIRED.
AS YOU DRIVE IN THE DRIVEWAY, YOU'LL SEE HAND PRINTS AND
SOME SPRINKLED PAINT WITH ACTIVITY.
WE TRY TO USE LITTLE DIFFERENT MINIPICTURES OUT THERE WHERE
YOU MIGHT SEE A SIGN HANGING ON A TENNIS SHOE WITH A TV
REMOTE.
SHOES THAT HAVE FLOATED UP FROM THE OCEANS THAT WE'VE USED
SOMETIMES TO INVOKE THOUGHTS OF WHERE WE WERE AT A
PARTICULAR TIME.
THE TRAVELS OF THOSE SHOES.
THERE ARE BOARDS OUT THERE THAT WE'VE ACQUIRED THAT WE'VE
MADE LITTLE DESIGNS ON.
I FOUND THAT MOST WOOD, PROBABLY THE WORK IS ALREADY THERE.
YOU'RE GOING TO DO A LITTLE BIT OF SHAVING, A LITTLE BIT OF
CARVING.
BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, THE OBJECT IS FINISHED.
AFTER 9/11 HAPPENED, I REALIZED HOW GREAT A MIRACLE WAS.
I HAD A LOT OF MEDIA AROUND AND I STARTED WITH THE CROSS.
AND I PUT THE CROSS UP.
THEN I HAD SOME LITTLE OBJECTS THAT WERE POLICEMEN AND
FIREMEN, AND I PUT THEM IN THERE.
AND THEN I HAD SOME OLD BEEPERS FOR THE TECHNOLOGY, AND THEN
ANOTHER TWO OBJECTS THAT WERE SHERLOCK HOLMES AND NAPOLEON
FOR POWER AND INVESTIGATING.
I LOOKED OVER IN A PILE OF WOOD, AND THERE WAS A SHAPE OF A
PIECE OF WOOD AND A NINE.
NEXT TO IT WAS TWO PIECES THAT LOOKED LIKE 11.
BEFORE I KNEW IT, IT ALL CAME TOGETHER.
I BELIEVE THAT EVERYONE IS AN ARTIST.
AS TO WHERE IF WE CAN FIND MEDIA THAT'S EASILY OBTAINABLE
AND ADD OUR TALENTS TO IT, IT BECOMES VERY REWARDING IN THAT
FACTOR, BECAUSE WE HAVE LESSENED THE COMPLICATED FACTOR AND
TAKEN SOMETHING THAT'S WITHIN US AND HAD THE MEDIA AND THEN
GIVING US SOMETHING THAT HAS SOME KIND OF APPEAL TO EITHER
OURSELVES OR SOMEONE.
I THINK I WAS MEANT TO TELL THE STORY ABOUT REUSE.
I THINK I AM JUST A PERSON THAT'S IN THIS ELEMENT TELLING A
STORY.
THE PERSON IS NOT IMPORTANT.
THE STORY IS IMPORTANT.
..
Famous Key West Lobster Buoy Artist
Hong Kong Willie
CALL US, WE ARE HERE.
ASK FOR
HONG KONG WILLIE.
813 770 4794
Used Key West Lobster Buoy Floats (3)
USED KEY WEST LOBSTER BUOYS FOR SALE
Key West Used Lobster Buoys Styrofoam objects which can be used for many craft or nautical design purposes. Used to decorate Tiki huts, Key West
lobster floats give you that nautical feeling of a private Key West
island in your back yard. Prepare yourself for Christmas using these
buoys making your Nautical Snowman.
Three Key West Buoys Included on Key West Rope.
Key West Used Lobster Buoys
Here is a Few Articles On
Key West Lobster Buoy Artist
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It Was those Last Words, She Said to Me
It Was that Tampa City Dump,the Art Teacher,her last words that made Tampa's Famous reuse artist.
. It Was that Tampa City Dump,the Art Teacher,her last words that made Tampa's Famous reuse artist.
New Tampa Patch
By Tristram DeRoma
The Story Behind the Eye-Catching Art at I-75 Exit 266 Tampa Florida
Key West Lobster Buoy Artist, better known as "Hong Kong Willie," makes art with a message at his home/studio near
I-75 Exit 266 Tampa Florida
Sometimes, it’s the smallest experiences that have the biggest impact on a person’s life.
While attending an art class in 1958 at the age of 8, Tampa folk artist Joe Brown recalled being mesmerized by the lesson. It involved transforming a Gerber baby bottle into a piece of art.
“The Gerber bottle had no intrinsic value at all,” he said. “But when (the instructor) got through with me that day, she made me see how something so (valueless) can be valuable.”
By the time class was over, Brown learned many other lessons, too, such as the importance of volunteerism, recycling, reuse and giving back to the community. He recalled being impressed by the teacher's volunteer work in Hiroshima, Japan, helping atomic bomb survivors.
"One of the last words she ever spoke to me about that was, ‘When I left, I left out of Hong Kong,’ ” he said. After turning that over in his young brain for awhile, he decided to use it in a nickname, adding the name “Willie” a year later.
You've probably seen Hong Kong Willie's eye-catching home/gallery/studio at Fletcher Avenue and Interstate 75. But what is the story of the man behind all those buoys and discarded objects turned into art?
Brown practiced his creative skills through his younger years. But as an adult, he managed to amass a small fortune working in the materials management industry. By the the '80s, he left the business world and decided to concentrate on his art. He spent some years in the Florida Keys honing his craft and building his reputation as a folk artist. He also bought some land in Tampa near Morris Bridge Road and Fletcher Avenue where he and his family still call home.
Brown purchased the land just after the entrances and exits to I-75 were built. He said he was once offered more than $1 million for the land by a restaurant. He turned it down, he said, preferring instead to make part of the property into a studio and gallery for the creations he and his family put together.
And all of it is made of what most people would consider “trash.” Pieces of driftwood, burlap bags, doll heads, rope — anything that comes Brown’s way becomes part of his vocabulary of expression, and, in turn, becomes something else, which makes a tour of his property somewhat of a visual adventure. What at first seems like a random menagerie of glass, driftwood and pottery suddenly comes together in one's brain to form something completely different. One moment nothing, the next a powerful statement about 9/11.
One Man's Trash ...
Trash? There is no such thing, Brown seems to say through his art.
He keeps a blog about his art at hongkongwillie.blogspot.com. He also sells his creations through the Website Etsy.com.
In his shop, he has fashioned many smaller items out of driftwood, burlap bags and other materials into signs, purses, totes, bird feeder hangars and yard sculptures.
He sells a lot to the regular influx of University of South Florida parents and students every year who are are at first intrigued by the “buoy tree” and the odd-looking building they see as they take Exit 266 off I-75.
Brown Sells More Than Art
Of course, the real locals know Brown’s place for the quality of his worms.
If there’s one thing that Brown knows does well in the ground, it’s the Florida redworm, something he enthusiastically promotes, selling the indigenous species to customers for use in their compost piles. Some of his customers say his worms are just as good at the end of a fishing hook, though.
“To be honest, what made me come here is that they had scriptures on the top of his bait cans,” said customer John Brin. “Plus, they have good service. They’re nice and they’re kind, and they treat you like family.”
Though Brin knows Brown sells them mostly for composting, he said they are great for catching blue gill, sand perch and other local favorites. He also added that he likes getting his worms from Brown “because his bait stays alive longer than any other baits I’ve used.”
For prices and amounts, he has another blog dedicated just to worms.
Of course, many people also stop by to buy the smaller pieces of art that he and his family create: purses made of burlap, welcome signs made of driftwood, planters and other items lining the walls of his store.
He’s also helped put his mark on the decor of local establishments too, such as Gaspar’s Patio, 8448 N. 56th st.
Owner Jimmy Ciaccio said that when it came time to redecorate the restaurant several years ago, there was only one person to call for the assignment, and that was his good friend Brown.
"I’ve known Joe all my life, and we always had a good chemistry together,” Ciaccio said. "He’s very creative and fun to be around, and that’s how it all came about.”
Ciaccio says he still gets compliments all the time for the restaurant’s atmosphere he created using the “trash” supplied by Brown. He describes the style as a day at the beach, like a visit to Old Key West. “They’re so inspired, they want to decorate their own homes this way,” he said.
It’s that kind of testimony that makes Brown feel good, knowing that others, too, are inspired to create instead of throw away when they see his work. He simply lets his work speak for itself.
“Somebody once told me to keep telling the story and they will keep coming," he said, "and they always do."
While attending an art class in 1958 at the age of 8, Tampa folk artist Joe Brown recalled being mesmerized by the lesson. It involved transforming a Gerber baby bottle into a piece of art.
“The Gerber bottle had no intrinsic value at all,” he said. “But when (the instructor) got through with me that day, she made me see how something so (valueless) can be valuable.”
By the time class was over, Brown learned many other lessons, too, such as the importance of volunteerism, recycling, reuse and giving back to the community. He recalled being impressed by the teacher's volunteer work in Hiroshima, Japan, helping atomic bomb survivors.
"One of the last words she ever spoke to me about that was, ‘When I left, I left out of Hong Kong,’ ” he said. After turning that over in his young brain for awhile, he decided to use it in a nickname, adding the name “Willie” a year later.
You've probably seen Hong Kong Willie's eye-catching home/gallery/studio at Fletcher Avenue and Interstate 75. But what is the story of the man behind all those buoys and discarded objects turned into art?
Brown practiced his creative skills through his younger years. But as an adult, he managed to amass a small fortune working in the materials management industry. By the the '80s, he left the business world and decided to concentrate on his art. He spent some years in the Florida Keys honing his craft and building his reputation as a folk artist. He also bought some land in Tampa near Morris Bridge Road and Fletcher Avenue where he and his family still call home.
Brown purchased the land just after the entrances and exits to I-75 were built. He said he was once offered more than $1 million for the land by a restaurant. He turned it down, he said, preferring instead to make part of the property into a studio and gallery for the creations he and his family put together.
And all of it is made of what most people would consider “trash.” Pieces of driftwood, burlap bags, doll heads, rope — anything that comes Brown’s way becomes part of his vocabulary of expression, and, in turn, becomes something else, which makes a tour of his property somewhat of a visual adventure. What at first seems like a random menagerie of glass, driftwood and pottery suddenly comes together in one's brain to form something completely different. One moment nothing, the next a powerful statement about 9/11.
One Man's Trash ...
Trash? There is no such thing, Brown seems to say through his art.
He keeps a blog about his art at hongkongwillie.blogspot.com. He also sells his creations through the Website Etsy.com.
In his shop, he has fashioned many smaller items out of driftwood, burlap bags and other materials into signs, purses, totes, bird feeder hangars and yard sculptures.
He sells a lot to the regular influx of University of South Florida parents and students every year who are are at first intrigued by the “buoy tree” and the odd-looking building they see as they take Exit 266 off I-75.
Brown Sells More Than Art
Of course, the real locals know Brown’s place for the quality of his worms.
If there’s one thing that Brown knows does well in the ground, it’s the Florida redworm, something he enthusiastically promotes, selling the indigenous species to customers for use in their compost piles. Some of his customers say his worms are just as good at the end of a fishing hook, though.
“To be honest, what made me come here is that they had scriptures on the top of his bait cans,” said customer John Brin. “Plus, they have good service. They’re nice and they’re kind, and they treat you like family.”
Though Brin knows Brown sells them mostly for composting, he said they are great for catching blue gill, sand perch and other local favorites. He also added that he likes getting his worms from Brown “because his bait stays alive longer than any other baits I’ve used.”
For prices and amounts, he has another blog dedicated just to worms.
Of course, many people also stop by to buy the smaller pieces of art that he and his family create: purses made of burlap, welcome signs made of driftwood, planters and other items lining the walls of his store.
He’s also helped put his mark on the decor of local establishments too, such as Gaspar’s Patio, 8448 N. 56th st.
Owner Jimmy Ciaccio said that when it came time to redecorate the restaurant several years ago, there was only one person to call for the assignment, and that was his good friend Brown.
"I’ve known Joe all my life, and we always had a good chemistry together,” Ciaccio said. "He’s very creative and fun to be around, and that’s how it all came about.”
Ciaccio says he still gets compliments all the time for the restaurant’s atmosphere he created using the “trash” supplied by Brown. He describes the style as a day at the beach, like a visit to Old Key West. “They’re so inspired, they want to decorate their own homes this way,” he said.
It’s that kind of testimony that makes Brown feel good, knowing that others, too, are inspired to create instead of throw away when they see his work. He simply lets his work speak for itself.
“Somebody once told me to keep telling the story and they will keep coming," he said, "and they always do."
Tampa gallery practices the art of creative reuse
The year was 1958. Joe Brown, 8, lived next to a county dump site in Tampa, Fla. Brown found old junk, fixed it up and sold it. Brown knew he had a higher calling in life — he was destined to be an artist.
Brown, who is now 60, makes art from trash at his Hong Kong Willie Art Gallery. He has embellished the outside of the gallery with splashes of Caribbean-color paint and found objects reminiscent of Key West.
Brown
is as colorful as the gallery — he wears a bright tropical shirt with
red, white and blue plaid shorts. Patrons tell him they can smell the
salt water when they drive up. The gallery, however, is perched inland
near Morris Bridge Road and Interstate 75 where a rusty-hair hen named
Fred, first thought to be a rooster, patrols the property. Fred,
abandoned five years ago by tourists, trots between the gallery and
adjacent hotel leaving a trail of droppings behind her.
Brown
lived on the Gunn Highway Landfill from 1958 to 1963. The Hillsborough
County landfill operated for four years and was closed in 1962. “It was
astounding how quick they could fill the 15 acres in pits that were
enormous,” Brown said.
An
apartment complex now sits on top of the old landfill. A report by the
Florida Department of Environmental Protection indicated that a lining
was placed underneath the complex when it was built to block methane gas from leaking. The gas is a byproduct of rotting garbage.
As a child, Brown
lived on his father’s dairy and beef farm. Brown said during heavy
rain, the low land on the farm flooded the neighboring Gunn Highway. In
1957, Hillsborough County officials offered to elevate the low land to
stop the flooding by turning it into a landfill. When the property was
sold in 1984 by Brown’s father, soil testing revealed heaps of old paper
and punctured cans of spray paint.
“They
dug up and took out newspapers like the day they were put in,” Brown
said. “It reminded me of nuclear bombs that were going to go off. They
dumped everything in the landfill.”
As
a child, Brown foraged at nearby dumpsters. County workers saved junk
for him that people dropped off. One day, Brown’s parents got a call
from his elementary school teacher and told them that Brown had $100 in
his pocket and that he must be stealing.
Brown
picked up the saved junk after school and turned it into something new.
Contrary to his elementary school teacher’s accusation, he wasn’t a
thief after all. Instead he was a young entrepreneur who sold other
people’s trash.
“There was so much excess coming into the landfill,” Brown said. “There was so much waste from our society.”
However,
Brown’s mother wanted him to pursue his talents and dreams, not money.
But he developed a business sense during his young junk collecting days
and told his mother, “I’m not going to be an artist. I’ve read that
artists starve to death.”
Brown’s
mother became concerned. He said his mother knew “the value of
happiness and the travels of life” and sent him to a summer art class.
The
art teacher inspired awe in Brown. She taught him how to reuse baby
food jars by melting the glass and adding marbles to the mix to create
paper weights. The teacher had traveled to Hong Kong, China and
Hiroshima, Japan after World War II. She saw how people were forced to
recycle and reuse items out of necessity after the war. This left an
impression on Brown.
It
was at this time that he personified the name Hong Kong Willie, which
harkens back to China where the mass production of merchandise occurs.
The “Willies” are people like Brown and other environmentalists who try
to reuse trash instead of throwing it into landfills.
After
high school, Brown went to college to study business but dropped out
after three years. He worked in the material handling industry until
1981. Although Brown had achieved a successful career and lifestyle, he
had become discouraged in 1979.
“The change came from knowing that I had come to the point of what people call success,” Brown said. “I wasn’t happy inside.”
He
had been diagnosed with depression in 1973, a condition that was caused
from high fructose intake and that lasted for more than four years.
In
1985, Brown and his artist wife, Kim, bought the half-acre property off
Fletcher Avenue and Morris Bridge Road. For two decades the two small
wooden shacks, built around 1965, that now house the gallery operated as
a bait and tackle shop.
Nowadays,
Brown raises and sells worms by the pound mainly for composting. He
recycled 250 thousand pounds in the worm bed in 2009. Brown still sells
the worms for $3.50 a cup for fishing.
In
1981, Brown resurrected the Hong Kong Willie name from his childhood
art class. In the early 1980s, both he and his wife, Kim, began
upcycling trash into art. Brown entered another world when he left his
mainstream lifestyle behind — he joined the art scene and booked rock
bands at the same time.
The
Brown family spent half their time in Tampa and the other half in a
small home on Boot Key Harbor in Marathon. Brown gained the reputation
of the Key West lobster buoy artist.
“I had a total different appearance when in Key West,” Brown said. “I used to have hair down to my waist.”
When Brown came back to Tampa, he lived in the woods for months at a time, much like Henry David Thoreau in “Walden,” who had lived a simple lifestyle in a one room cabin near Walden Pond in Concord, Mass.
Back
in Key West, Brown became friends with local fishermen. He and others
organized efforts to clean up plastic foam buoys that had collected in
the waterways from years of fishing.
“You would go and find buoys floating in the mangroves, up on the shore and they had trashed up everything,” Brown said.
The
Earth Resource Foundation reports that plastic foam is dumped into the
environment. It breaks up into pieces and chokes animals by clogging
their digestive system.
Brown
sells the buoys from the Hong Kong Willie Art Gallery for $2.00 a
piece. He said he has sold from 30 to 40 thousand buoys in the last ten
years. Some of the buoys are more than 50 years old and are collected by
tourists from China and Japan.
“If
you go to the Keys right now and you see a buoy floating, you’ll see
someone slam on the brakes to get it,” Brown said. “They’re the most
prized buoys of the world.”
Brown
made a holiday buoy tree 12 years ago from the Key West buoys. Hundreds
of buoys are strung on rope and wrapped around a utility pole next to
the gallery. Brown hopes the novelty of the buoy tree will inspire and
stimulate children to find new ways to reduce, reuse and recycle
garbage.
In
Kate Shoup’s “Rubbish! Reuse Your Refuse,” the author said much of what
we get is designed to be scrapped after only a few uses. We easily
throw away pens, lighters, razors and dozens of other items. Shoup said
Americans consume 2 million plastic drink bottles every 5 minutes.
Likewise,
Brown finds uses for items that would otherwise end up in a landfill.
He buys used burlap bags from coffee and peanut producers. He sells them
to the U.S. National Forestry Service for the collection of pine seeds
and Samuel Adams for hops production.
Brown and his wife, Kim, also make art hippie bags from the burlap sacks and sell them in the gallery. Kim,
also an artist, paints fish, turtles, crows, parrots and the like on
driftwood and on wood that Brown has salvaged from saw mills and from
old buildings in Key West.
Brown
said art is viewed and appreciated by certain people. “If it all came
out the same, it would be like bland grits all the time,” Brown said. He
likes to refer to the gallery art as reused rather than recycled, which
takes waste and turns it into an inferior product. Reuse on the other
hand involves remaking an item and using it again for the same intended
purpose.
“I
also try to stay away from imprinting a definite use for a definite
item,” Brown said. He explains that 2-liter bottles are not limited to
making bird feeders. The bottles can be used for art and craft projects
as well.
Brown said the larger message he wants to communicate is that the disposal of garbage today is creating a toxic environment.
.
family art gallery.
Reuse artists from the 1960s.
Morris Bridge Road and Interstate 75, Tampa, Fla.
The garden shrubbery consists of recycled glass bottles and aloe vera plants.
buoy tree.
Hundreds of lobster buoys from Key West, Fla., strung on rope,
wrapped and tied to a utility pole.
orange helicopter that once served in
Vietnam and later used by a radio station.
Key West lobster buoys hang from the small 1950s wood frame building.
Tourists buy the buoys for souvenirs. Some of the buoys are 50 years old.
The exterior of the roadside building is an artful blend of
Caribbean-color paint and found objects.
Seabird plaques, sea glass, melted bottles, painted driftwood
and rusty objects are a few of the items that decorate the wood panels.
Entrance into the small building, which is lined from ceiling to floor
with burlap sacks from South American coffee roasters.
Joe Brown and family also composts and sells worms.
Patrons buy worms for fishing and composting.
They also buy South American burlap coffee bean sacks.
reuse the burlap
and make hippie beach bags.
Hong Kong Willie reuse artists use old clothes, buttons, baseball leather and
yarns to sew and decorate the burlap bags.
View photographs of the Hong Kong Willie art gallery
http://kerryschofieldjournal.blogspot.com/2010/09/hong-kong-willie-photomontage.html
BUOY OH BUOY
BITS OF THE BEACH
BILL DURYEA
TIMES STAFF WRITER
A BAY AREA BUSINESS COUPLE SALVAGES DEBRIS FROM THE KEYS THAT CAN BUOY ANY ATMOSPHERE.
TAMPA– Every month or so, Kim and Joe Brown pile into the family flatbed truck, he one that’s decorated with multi-colored stencils of fern fronds, and drive down to Key West.
There, they inevitably find what they’re looking for: a few thousand discarded plastic foam crab and lobster buoys, maybe a battered surf board or a life preserver. After a week or so, they strap the whole load down, turn the truck around and head home to Fletcher Avenue at Interstate-75, where they have lived for nearly 25 years.
If you’ve driven by there recently, and you’d know if you’d had, then you have a pretty good idea, of what the Brown’s do with the buoys once they get them off the truck.
They wrap them around metal poles, until they resemble marshmellow Christmas trees. They festoon them outside the gift and bait shop they run. They line their parking lot with them.
“It can drive you crazy,” Kim Brown said as she stared at a mound of them. “There’s got to be something else to do with them. I was thinking maybe I’d cut them in half and make them into little planters.”
Occasionaly, a restaurant owner who fancies a nautical theme will relieve them of a few thousand buoys. Sometimes a home owner from New Tampa wants a dozen for his new poolside bar.
But generally speaking, the treasures of the Key West trips come in at a rate far faster than they go out. Doesn’t matter a bit to the Browns.
“I have a pretty good life. I don’t have to bust my butt,” Kim Brown said. “I don’t make a lot of money, but when someone likes my stuff, that’s cool.”
In a corner of Tampa dominated by late-arriving corporate parks and hotel chains, they live a life of enviable self-sufficiency. If they appear eccentric, it is only by the relelentlessly conformist standards of their neighbors. If the decor appears kitschy, maybe it’s because we’ve lost touch with what’s truly authentic.
On a recent morning, Kim Brown was giving an impromptu tour to a surprise visitor. She was wearing a loose-fitting white shirt and a long gray cotton skirt. Walking around in her tanned bare feet and sunglasses she seemed glamorous and unfussy. She casually mentions her age, 46, without a trace of self-consciousness.
The sky was threatening rain and that wasn’t doing much for sales at A-24 Hour Bait. “Fish are going to eat today,” she says, shaking her head at the squandered opportunity.
But it gave her time to tell some stories.
“Those rings, they came from a Cuban refugee raft,” she says, indicating a clump of artifacts outside thet baitshop. ” When I can, I take a picture of the man or the woman and that becomes part of the story of what we sell.”
She grabbed a bass lure dangling from the inside of a metal cylinder and gave it a good tug. It clanged loudly. “We make the bells out of dive tanks that were going to be thrown away,” she says.
“I’ve got a real nice anchor. It’s over 100 years old. That came from a Cuban who got it caught in his lobster traps.”
“The Lobster guys are lucky,” she says with real admiration in her voice. “They find this stuff all the time, just floating out there.”
Kim grew up near Lowry Park Zoo. Her husband was raised out on Anderson Road. They met in 1981, the circumstances of which are one of a few stories she’s reluctant to tell in detail. At the time she was boarding horses across the road in what is now the Hidden River Corporate Park.
“When I met Joe, he was in a suit and tie. He always had a thousand dollars on his back,” she said. He was in the materials handling business, but it wasn’t long for that corporate life.
They saw some land was available for sale on Morris Bridge Road, the part where it bends in the southwest corner of I-75 and Fletcher. The acre or so had a worm farm on it when they bought it. The previous owner had a Coca-Cola cooler out front, and fishermen on their way to the Hillsborough River would come by and fill a can with worms, leave a little money in a cup. All on the honour system.
“That tapered off. Fishng wasn’t simple anymore. You couldn’t just get a cane pole and a can of worms and go catch some dinner,” Kim says. “Now you’ve got to have permits and expensive reels and the latest lure.”
“That’s why we kind of went back to our art.”
In the early 1990’s they made their first trip down to the keys. They began to meet fishermen. They stayed in their homes, ate dinner with them. Joined in the parties at the beginning of stone crab season.
It wasn’t long before they saw all the buoys overflowing the trash cans. Buoys generally last a few years. Turtles gnaw them. Storms scatter them. Sun and salt bleach them.
“Hey, we can do something with those,” Kim remembers saying. “We make something out of nothing.”
The gift shop, known as Hong Kong Willie, is full of stuff that was perilously close to oblivion before the Browns identified some hidden potential.
Kim makes “coconut grams”. They’re painted coconuts with a space clearly marked for the address. There’s not much room for the message. But the U.S. Postal Service will actually deliver them, Kim says.
The gift shop’s ceiling is packed with coffee sacks. Glass bottles that have been heated in the Brown’s kilns sit on shelves slumped like Dali clocks. Gnarled pieces of polished Lignum Vitae are scattered about; Kim’s son Derek, 22, is responsible for that work.
Nothing has a price, because prices depend on too many variables for it to be worth specifying. (A string of five buoys will cost you $12.99, though the price drops for bulk purchases.) But whenever possible a piece will come with a picture of the shop, or of the person who provided the piece, to commemorate the item’s passage
through history.
“This telephone was on Duval Street,” Kim says. “It’s got all these names and numbers written on the side. And a picture of a raccoon on the front. Who knows why?”
The demand for items such as this is unpredictable. Ditto the 1961 mailbox with the rusted front. But the Browns’ customers tend to share their enthusiasm.
“I bought 1,200 buoys a month ago,” said Jimmy Ciaccio, owner of Gaspar’s, a restaurant on 56th Street in Temple Terrace that has a brand new patio with an aggressive Key West theme.
“I must have 3,000 of them around here,” Ciaccio says as he walks the deck, talking a torrent. “I got a raft, those traps, they all came from Joe. I’ve bought a lot of novelty stuff from them. That’s what they’re all about and that’s what we’re all about. And there’s always a story behind everything. I love that. He gave me that thing, it’s like a piece of wood or something I don’t know what it is, but it’s from Key West. We’ve got that chemistry.”
If there were a few more customers as fervid as Ciaccio, Kim Brown might not be toying with the idea of getting into the food business. But there aren’t and she is.
“Not everybody wants a buoy or a bell,” Kim says. “But everyone wants to drink a cup of coffee. I don’t want to be a Starbucks but maybe a little coffee shop. Maybe a good Cuban sandwich.”
“But then you get into hiring and firing. I’ve got friends in the retaurant business. I see how hard they work. It’s never-ending,” she says, beginning to argue with herself. “I just don’t want to work that hard.”
She circles back to a calm contentment with life as it is currently defined.
“We’re happy. We don’t want to sell. We’re not rich, but we pay our bills.
click to enlarge
Drive south on I-75, look to the right around East Fletcher
Avenue, and you can't miss it. The tree appears first, hundreds of
buoys wrapped around its branches, resembling a sort of Dr. Seuss-ian
Christmas ornament. Then the rest of the 20,000 buoys come into view --
thousands of strands of the multicolored foam balls stretching from the
tree to two wooden shacks, hanging from their roofs and walls, and
stretched out over the property.
Strewn about the lawn is a menagerie of surfboards, car doors, CB radios, wooden sculptures and painted signs. A 1979 Ford pickup sits in the front driveway, painted with a rainbow of colors, four racks of antlers affixed to its roof. An old stuffed caribou sits in a lawn chair beckoning visitors.
Of the thousands of motorists who pass by this eclectic landmark off Exit 266 every day, few stop in the funky gift shop and Key West-themed folk art gallery that is Hong Kong Willie's. But this is not your typical roadside store selling cheesy Florida magnets and beach T-shirts (although they have those, too). From the moment the owners come out to greet you, it's clear that for them this isn't just a business -- it's a lifestyle.
As I step out of my car, Joe Brown ambles toward me wearing a red Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. With his disheveled shoulder-length brown hair and strong jaw line, Brown, 56, looks a lot like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. He ends most of his sentences with "Do you follow me?" and stares with wild gray eyes until you nod in agreement. His 46-year-old wife, Kim, who bears a strong resemblance to Grace Slick, sits near the shop's open sign, branding her latest creation. Wearing large sunglasses, she gives a smile, hardly looking up.
Joe and Kim -- Tampa natives -- bought the half-acre property off Fletcher Avenue and Morris Bridge Road in 1985. For the next two decades, the Browns operated A-24 Hour Bait and Tackle, living on the premises and bagging worms for K-Mart and Wal-Mart to make a few extra bucks. But in 2001, they decided to abandon fish food to pursue the fickle business of art, although they will tell you Hong Kong Willie's was always "part of the journey."
"We were artists," says Joe. "We were born that way. We had no choice. You follow me?"
The underlying theme of Hong Kong Willie's is creating art out of objects destined for the landfill, and while browsing the items, I get the feeling the Browns are trying to make a point rather than a sale.
"Thirty percent of the gifts given will be in the dumpster by next Christmas," Joe says. "Most Christmas gifts will be given because they think they have to. Very few will have a social impact."
Every item at Hong Kong Willie's is either art made out of an object destined for the landfill or products that other companies were throwing away and the Browns retrieved before they made it to the dumpster. But don't call this recycled art. The Browns prefer "preservation."
Recycling implies the material will be used for the same purpose. "If you get stuck in that word, then you get stuck in that form," Joe explains. Instead, the Browns create a whole new use for an item that would have been otherwise thrown away.
Kim looks up from her painting after Joe finishes his long ramble. "We've always been able to take nothing and make something out of it," she says.
Although most people assume Joe is "Hong Kong Willie," he says the name refers to the origin of junk: Hong Kong produces much of the useless merchandise that Americans buy and quickly throw away, he says. So it's up to the Willies of the world -- i.e. the Browns and other conservationists -- to find new uses for the trash.
"All of us who believe what we believe is Hong Kong Willie," Joe says.
The gift shop is a space not much bigger than a tool shed, cluttered with handmade candles, pottery, ceramic figures and deer skulls painted tie-dye style. Joe, who's not content to allow me to wander by myself, darts from item to item, sharing each one's origins. One of the first objects he shows me is an old scuba tank cut in half, stenciled with yellow and purple spray paint with a weighted rope attached on the inside. What would have been a heavy addition to a landfill or junkyard, the Browns now sell as a nautical-themed bell. Another popular item: a used Starbucks Frappuccino bottle filled with sand and shells, and the words "Florida Beachfront Property" written in paint on it.
"Is it really pragmatic to say this had one life -- to have Frappuccino in it?" he says, holding up the $3 gift. "That's not true. You follow me?"
Joe picks up a droopy glass vase -- the result of an Arizona Ice Tea bottle stuck in a kiln for too long. He says it's a collector's item: Only 300 were made and none look alike.
"People really want something that is one of a kind and something that means something," he says, holding up the vase and pointing to a stack of Beanie Babies. "Which one is the real collectible? The one that cannot be copied or the one that is mass-produced just on a small scale? You follow me?"
Most of the materials the Browns work with come from Key West. Every few months they hop in the pickup, drive the 425 miles to the Keys and start looking for the junk no one else wants: used dive tanks, the lobster trap buoys, burlap bags and even old wooden planks from ships or homes destroyed by storms.
In fact, the latter is one of their biggest sellers. They bring back an imperfect piece of lumber, slap some urethane on it and Kim paints everything from colorful fish and birds to old Key West landmarks on it. Every piece is branded, marked with a lobster cage tag and affixed with brass rings or forks with which to hang them. In the building opposite the gift shop, among stuffed animals and fish (Joe was once a taxidermist), 30 of these painted planks hang from the walls.
Customers are few at Hong Kong Willie's, but the Browns say they're doing well. They never try to push their art on anyone, figuring that if someone stops and buys something, it was meant to be. ("A piece of art is a love affair," Kim says.) They count Gaspar's Patio Bar and Grille in Temple Terrace as one of their best customers. Their other business comes from Tampa residents looking to add a tiki feel to their backyards. Among Joe's most popular creations are old car doors outfitted with waterproof speakers. A few Key West bars bought the unique sound systems to hang from their ceilings.
But the Browns are not just content to sell their art to passersby -- they want to live the ideals that inspire their art. The couple is working on getting their business off the electrical grid and powered completely by solar energy. Kim wants to start a coffee and ice cream shop with free wireless Internet to bring in likeminded people. Joe wants to be in the Guinness Book of World Records for hanging the greatest number of buoys to a structure (it's not a category yet). And they're always trying to find new uses for the trash they see lining area roads.
"We're not just sitting out here being weird," Joe says suddenly. "We're actually taking objects and making these thousands of people say, 'What's that?' We're doing it because it's the right thing to do."
His eyes get wide.
"You follow me?"
ROADSIDE ATTRACTION
Jim Tunstall TAMPA TRIBUNE
A break with the mainstream led a couple to their own little corner of happiness from another day in time.
” I believe every individual has a purpose. When you start going on your journey to discover yours, you learn some things along the way.”
JOE BROWN
Joe Brown loves to express himself.
If you want to see how, take a spin by his place on the southwest corner of Interstate 75 and Fletcher Avenue. His yard is coiffed with a sassy blend of crab-trap buoys, bottle art, fishy wind socks and a dog and two cats that co-exist on a mainly peaceful basis.
Then there’s the man. Brown, a page out of the 1960’s better side, owns A-24 Hour Bait and Tackle.
On one hand, he’s private enough not to want his photograph taken, on the other, he’s gregarious enough to talk the ears off anyone interested in fishing. Fact is, this 51-year-old Tampa native is primed to gab about next best to anything on the minds of his visitors, including the way things used to be.
Like in 1983 when he and his wife, Kim, planted roots on this corner and the new Interstate was their only new neighbor.
Before that, Brown had been part of the establishment, but he chucked his mainstream career and spent 3 years on a 700-hundred acre spread across Fletcher, searching for himself.
I was seriously unhappy,” he says.
“I left (the job) Nov. 13, 1981. That Date, the moment I left the office, it blazed in my brain, I was 31 and dealing with severe depression.”
One day he heard a voice.
“People will tell you you’ve got serious problems when you hear voices,” he says behind a grin. “But this wasn’t that kind of experience. It just said, ‘Joe, what if it gets better?’”
Well, slowly it did.
He and Kim took an option on the corner that been home to a worm farm for 25 years.
” The worm business was at it’s ebb,” Brown says.
” I bought it to sell. I had no idea I was going to continue it.”
Over the years, neighbors started putting down roots to the west, including apartment complexes and more than a half dozen hotels, such as Extended Stay America and Residence Inn.
The bait and tackle business stayed reasonably strong until the economy went south last year, Brown says, adding that he still carries a full line of rods, reels, cane poles, lures, crickets, shiners, and shrimp.
” But we did a lot a wholesale and we lost 90 percent of that business Sep. 11,” he says.” ” That’s dead. It’s not coming back.”
Fortunately the Browns have branched out.
Last year, they opened a gift shop that sells gator heads, sea shells, stuffed critters, t-shirts, and other trinkets.
Brown also started dabbling in bottle art — melting everything from vodka to Sprite bottles, reshaping them then letting them cool and harden.
Through the last 20 years, he seems to have learned to be a survivor.
He’s also learned his reason for being on this corner.
“I believe every individual has a purpose,” he says, turning serious for a moment.
“When you start going on your journey to discover yours, you learn some things along the way. I like working with the public and making them happy. And if you’re doing what you want to do, it’s a beautiful thing.”
Strewn about the lawn is a menagerie of surfboards, car doors, CB radios, wooden sculptures and painted signs. A 1979 Ford pickup sits in the front driveway, painted with a rainbow of colors, four racks of antlers affixed to its roof. An old stuffed caribou sits in a lawn chair beckoning visitors.
Of the thousands of motorists who pass by this eclectic landmark off Exit 266 every day, few stop in the funky gift shop and Key West-themed folk art gallery that is Hong Kong Willie's. But this is not your typical roadside store selling cheesy Florida magnets and beach T-shirts (although they have those, too). From the moment the owners come out to greet you, it's clear that for them this isn't just a business -- it's a lifestyle.
As I step out of my car, Joe Brown ambles toward me wearing a red Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. With his disheveled shoulder-length brown hair and strong jaw line, Brown, 56, looks a lot like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. He ends most of his sentences with "Do you follow me?" and stares with wild gray eyes until you nod in agreement. His 46-year-old wife, Kim, who bears a strong resemblance to Grace Slick, sits near the shop's open sign, branding her latest creation. Wearing large sunglasses, she gives a smile, hardly looking up.
Joe and Kim -- Tampa natives -- bought the half-acre property off Fletcher Avenue and Morris Bridge Road in 1985. For the next two decades, the Browns operated A-24 Hour Bait and Tackle, living on the premises and bagging worms for K-Mart and Wal-Mart to make a few extra bucks. But in 2001, they decided to abandon fish food to pursue the fickle business of art, although they will tell you Hong Kong Willie's was always "part of the journey."
"We were artists," says Joe. "We were born that way. We had no choice. You follow me?"
The underlying theme of Hong Kong Willie's is creating art out of objects destined for the landfill, and while browsing the items, I get the feeling the Browns are trying to make a point rather than a sale.
"Thirty percent of the gifts given will be in the dumpster by next Christmas," Joe says. "Most Christmas gifts will be given because they think they have to. Very few will have a social impact."
Every item at Hong Kong Willie's is either art made out of an object destined for the landfill or products that other companies were throwing away and the Browns retrieved before they made it to the dumpster. But don't call this recycled art. The Browns prefer "preservation."
Recycling implies the material will be used for the same purpose. "If you get stuck in that word, then you get stuck in that form," Joe explains. Instead, the Browns create a whole new use for an item that would have been otherwise thrown away.
Kim looks up from her painting after Joe finishes his long ramble. "We've always been able to take nothing and make something out of it," she says.
Although most people assume Joe is "Hong Kong Willie," he says the name refers to the origin of junk: Hong Kong produces much of the useless merchandise that Americans buy and quickly throw away, he says. So it's up to the Willies of the world -- i.e. the Browns and other conservationists -- to find new uses for the trash.
"All of us who believe what we believe is Hong Kong Willie," Joe says.
The gift shop is a space not much bigger than a tool shed, cluttered with handmade candles, pottery, ceramic figures and deer skulls painted tie-dye style. Joe, who's not content to allow me to wander by myself, darts from item to item, sharing each one's origins. One of the first objects he shows me is an old scuba tank cut in half, stenciled with yellow and purple spray paint with a weighted rope attached on the inside. What would have been a heavy addition to a landfill or junkyard, the Browns now sell as a nautical-themed bell. Another popular item: a used Starbucks Frappuccino bottle filled with sand and shells, and the words "Florida Beachfront Property" written in paint on it.
"Is it really pragmatic to say this had one life -- to have Frappuccino in it?" he says, holding up the $3 gift. "That's not true. You follow me?"
Joe picks up a droopy glass vase -- the result of an Arizona Ice Tea bottle stuck in a kiln for too long. He says it's a collector's item: Only 300 were made and none look alike.
"People really want something that is one of a kind and something that means something," he says, holding up the vase and pointing to a stack of Beanie Babies. "Which one is the real collectible? The one that cannot be copied or the one that is mass-produced just on a small scale? You follow me?"
Most of the materials the Browns work with come from Key West. Every few months they hop in the pickup, drive the 425 miles to the Keys and start looking for the junk no one else wants: used dive tanks, the lobster trap buoys, burlap bags and even old wooden planks from ships or homes destroyed by storms.
In fact, the latter is one of their biggest sellers. They bring back an imperfect piece of lumber, slap some urethane on it and Kim paints everything from colorful fish and birds to old Key West landmarks on it. Every piece is branded, marked with a lobster cage tag and affixed with brass rings or forks with which to hang them. In the building opposite the gift shop, among stuffed animals and fish (Joe was once a taxidermist), 30 of these painted planks hang from the walls.
Customers are few at Hong Kong Willie's, but the Browns say they're doing well. They never try to push their art on anyone, figuring that if someone stops and buys something, it was meant to be. ("A piece of art is a love affair," Kim says.) They count Gaspar's Patio Bar and Grille in Temple Terrace as one of their best customers. Their other business comes from Tampa residents looking to add a tiki feel to their backyards. Among Joe's most popular creations are old car doors outfitted with waterproof speakers. A few Key West bars bought the unique sound systems to hang from their ceilings.
But the Browns are not just content to sell their art to passersby -- they want to live the ideals that inspire their art. The couple is working on getting their business off the electrical grid and powered completely by solar energy. Kim wants to start a coffee and ice cream shop with free wireless Internet to bring in likeminded people. Joe wants to be in the Guinness Book of World Records for hanging the greatest number of buoys to a structure (it's not a category yet). And they're always trying to find new uses for the trash they see lining area roads.
"We're not just sitting out here being weird," Joe says suddenly. "We're actually taking objects and making these thousands of people say, 'What's that?' We're doing it because it's the right thing to do."
His eyes get wide.
"You follow me?"
ROADSIDE ATTRACTION
Jim Tunstall TAMPA TRIBUNE
A break with the mainstream led a couple to their own little corner of happiness from another day in time.
” I believe every individual has a purpose. When you start going on your journey to discover yours, you learn some things along the way.”
JOE BROWN
Joe Brown loves to express himself.
If you want to see how, take a spin by his place on the southwest corner of Interstate 75 and Fletcher Avenue. His yard is coiffed with a sassy blend of crab-trap buoys, bottle art, fishy wind socks and a dog and two cats that co-exist on a mainly peaceful basis.
Then there’s the man. Brown, a page out of the 1960’s better side, owns A-24 Hour Bait and Tackle.
On one hand, he’s private enough not to want his photograph taken, on the other, he’s gregarious enough to talk the ears off anyone interested in fishing. Fact is, this 51-year-old Tampa native is primed to gab about next best to anything on the minds of his visitors, including the way things used to be.
Like in 1983 when he and his wife, Kim, planted roots on this corner and the new Interstate was their only new neighbor.
Before that, Brown had been part of the establishment, but he chucked his mainstream career and spent 3 years on a 700-hundred acre spread across Fletcher, searching for himself.
I was seriously unhappy,” he says.
“I left (the job) Nov. 13, 1981. That Date, the moment I left the office, it blazed in my brain, I was 31 and dealing with severe depression.”
One day he heard a voice.
“People will tell you you’ve got serious problems when you hear voices,” he says behind a grin. “But this wasn’t that kind of experience. It just said, ‘Joe, what if it gets better?’”
Well, slowly it did.
He and Kim took an option on the corner that been home to a worm farm for 25 years.
” The worm business was at it’s ebb,” Brown says.
” I bought it to sell. I had no idea I was going to continue it.”
Over the years, neighbors started putting down roots to the west, including apartment complexes and more than a half dozen hotels, such as Extended Stay America and Residence Inn.
The bait and tackle business stayed reasonably strong until the economy went south last year, Brown says, adding that he still carries a full line of rods, reels, cane poles, lures, crickets, shiners, and shrimp.
” But we did a lot a wholesale and we lost 90 percent of that business Sep. 11,” he says.” ” That’s dead. It’s not coming back.”
Fortunately the Browns have branched out.
Last year, they opened a gift shop that sells gator heads, sea shells, stuffed critters, t-shirts, and other trinkets.
Brown also started dabbling in bottle art — melting everything from vodka to Sprite bottles, reshaping them then letting them cool and harden.
Through the last 20 years, he seems to have learned to be a survivor.
He’s also learned his reason for being on this corner.
“I believe every individual has a purpose,” he says, turning serious for a moment.
“When you start going on your journey to discover yours, you learn some things along the way. I like working with the public and making them happy. And if you’re doing what you want to do, it’s a beautiful thing.”
John 3:16
King James Version (KJV)
16For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
FUNDING FOR THIS PROGRAM IS MADE POSSIBLE BY THE
S.L. GIMBEL FOUNDATION.
IN THIS EDITION OF "WEDU ARTS PLUS,Hongkongwillie
A LOCAL ARTS AND ARTIFACTS BUSINESS TRANSFORMS TRASH
INTO TREASURE.
>> I THINK I WAS MEANT TO TELL THE STORY ABOUT REUSE.
THE PERSON IS NOT IMPORTANT.
THE STORY IS IMPORTANT.
AS A BOY, JOE BROWN WATCHED GARBAGE TRUCKS HAUL TRASH TO A
DUMP ON HIS FAMILY PROPERTY.
TODAY, HE RUNS A TAMPA PRESERVATION ART BUSINESS CALLED HONG
KONG WILLIE, WHERE BURLAP BAGS AND LOBSTER BUOYS ARE
CONVERTED TO WORKS OF ART.
>> MY NAME IS JOE BROWN.
MY ART NAME IS HONG KONG WILLIE.
I AM A REUSE ARTIST TAKING MEDIA THAT WOULD HAVE NATURALLY
BEEN DISPOSED OF IN LANDFILLS AND ADDING THE GIFT THAT I'VE
BEEN GIVEN TO MAKE SOMETHING THAT SOMEBODY POSSIBLY MIGHT
HAVE AN ALLUREMENT TO AND ATTRACTION TO.
REUSE AND RECYCLING CAME FROM BEING RAISED ON A LANDFILL ON
GUNN HIGHWAY HERE IN TAMPA.
IT WAS AN ENTRAPPING WAY WITH VERY LITTLE FUNDS TO MAKE
SOMETHING THAT WAS ATTRACTIVE AND REWARDING TO ME
PERSONALLY.
¶¶
>> ACQUIRING MEDIA, SUCH AS BOARDS, STARTED WHEN WE WERE
PICKING UP BOARDS MAYBE FROM BUILDINGS THAT HAD BEEN
DESTROYED FROM THE HURRICANES.
BOARDS THAT CAME FROM HISTORICAL BUILDINGS IN THE KEYS.
SOME OF THE REAL THICK, THICK HEAVY BOARDS WERE BOARDS THAT
I THINK WERE CUT ROUGH CUT.
THE SMOOTHNESS CAME OUT OF MANY YEARS OF WEARING.
WE ACQUIRED SOME BOARDS THAT CAME FROM THE ORIGINAL RAILROAD
BRIDGE THAT FLAGLER BUILT.
I THINK ALL ARTISTS SOMETIMES INVOKE THE FEELINGS AND THE
STORIES ABOUT THE MEDIA THAT THEY ARE WORKING WITH.
I THINK THAT ART, ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE FALLS IN LOVE WITH
IT, THEY WANT TO KNOW THE STORY.
AND BECAUSE OF THE KEYS HAVING THE TREMENDOUS EFFECT THAT IT
HAS ON US, AND BECAUSE OF WHAT HAS SHAPED THE KEYS, THERE
COMES A TIME WHERE ALL OF IT COMES TOGETHER AND THAT'S WHAT
MAKES IT SO SPECIAL.
THROUGHOUT THE YEARS, THE OUTSIDE OF THE BUILDING CHANGES
WITH DIFFERENT MEDIA THAT WE'VE ACQUIRED.
AS YOU DRIVE IN THE DRIVEWAY, YOU'LL SEE HAND PRINTS AND
SOME SPRINKLED PAINT WITH ACTIVITY.
WE TRY TO USE LITTLE DIFFERENT MINIPICTURES OUT THERE WHERE
YOU MIGHT SEE A SIGN HANGING ON A TENNIS SHOE WITH A TV
REMOTE.
SHOES THAT HAVE FLOATED UP FROM THE OCEANS THAT WE'VE USED
SOMETIMES TO INVOKE THOUGHTS OF WHERE WE WERE AT A
PARTICULAR TIME.
THE TRAVELS OF THOSE SHOES.
THERE ARE BOARDS OUT THERE THAT WE'VE ACQUIRED THAT WE'VE
MADE LITTLE DESIGNS ON.
I FOUND THAT MOST WOOD, PROBABLY THE WORK IS ALREADY THERE.
YOU'RE GOING TO DO A LITTLE BIT OF SHAVING, A LITTLE BIT OF
CARVING.
BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, THE OBJECT IS FINISHED.
AFTER 9/11 HAPPENED, I REALIZED HOW GREAT A MIRACLE WAS.
I HAD A LOT OF MEDIA AROUND AND I STARTED WITH THE CROSS.
AND I PUT THE CROSS UP.
THEN I HAD SOME LITTLE OBJECTS THAT WERE POLICEMEN AND
FIREMEN, AND I PUT THEM IN THERE.
AND THEN I HAD SOME OLD BEEPERS FOR THE TECHNOLOGY, AND THEN
ANOTHER TWO OBJECTS THAT WERE SHERLOCK HOLMES AND NAPOLEON
FOR POWER AND INVESTIGATING.
I LOOKED OVER IN A PILE OF WOOD, AND THERE WAS A SHAPE OF A
PIECE OF WOOD AND A NINE.
NEXT TO IT WAS TWO PIECES THAT LOOKED LIKE 11.
BEFORE I KNEW IT, IT ALL CAME TOGETHER.
I BELIEVE THAT EVERYONE IS AN ARTIST.
AS TO WHERE IF WE CAN FIND MEDIA THAT'S EASILY OBTAINABLE
AND ADD OUR TALENTS TO IT, IT BECOMES VERY REWARDING IN THAT
FACTOR, BECAUSE WE HAVE LESSENED THE COMPLICATED FACTOR AND
TAKEN SOMETHING THAT'S WITHIN US AND HAD THE MEDIA AND THEN
GIVING US SOMETHING THAT HAS SOME KIND OF APPEAL TO EITHER
OURSELVES OR SOMEONE.
I THINK I WAS MEANT TO TELL THE STORY ABOUT REUSE.
I THINK I AM JUST A PERSON THAT'S IN THIS ELEMENT TELLING A
STORY.
THE PERSON IS NOT IMPORTANT.
THE STORY IS IMPORTANT.
..
Blue Marlin Dream of Key West.
$225,000 Hong Kong Willie Art
The Gunn Highway Landfill is located
off Gunn Highway in Tampa, Hillsborough
County, Florida. The county operated the landfill
as a trench-type facility for the disposal
of MSW from 1958 to 1962.It,(was the dump) that had all this media, and a young enterprising mind. Not enough time to capture it all.
Published in TB2
BY SOHINI LAHIRI
Growing up in Tampa, I spent a period of time fascinated by a quirky, eye-catching landmark at Fletcher Avenue and Interstate 75. This was also the period of time I spent obsessed with making binoculars out of toilet paper rolls and necklaces out of pop tops. To me, this sight was the epitome of similar creative craziness, and I often found myself looking for it during car journeys, hoping it hadn’t disappeared overnight.
But time passes and so does the urge for pop-top necklaces, and observant eyes don’t notice the same sights. It wasn’t until recently that I once again took note of the scene, with its broken down orange helicopter, a tree made of what seems to be indestructible balloons and a blue-and-white house covered with trash remade into art.
It’s the home of Hong Kong Willie, artist of reuse.
I finally paid a visit to this art gallery after many years of wondering about the story behind it. The pavement leading to the door is painted with handprints and splatters, the store edged with upside down Coke bottles. Streams of lobster buoys hang from the roof and also make up the “tree” I marveled at so often from my car window.
Various shoes, bottles, clocks and signs are glued to the side of the store, and there’s a tribute to Sept. 11 off to the side. No one seemed to be home, so I called the number on the “WE’RE OPEN” sign, which brought a middle-aged man in a bright Hawaiian shirt from behind the store.
After a few basic questions, Joe Brown begins to open up about the history surrounding his art.
Brown, better known as Hong Kong Willie, says he was an artist from the start. “Everyone is born an artist,” he said. “However some are granted the gift of being able to express that art.”
As a young boy, his mother decided to send him to art school, which he says changed the course of his life forever.
At the age of 8, Brown recalls being heavily influenced by the lessons, which included transforming a Gerber baby bottle, something with no real value, into a piece of art. His teacher had spent an enormous amount of time and effort in Hiroshima, Japan, helping those affected by the atomic bombs. Brown learned many lessons about recycling from this teacher, who had come from Hong Kong. Brown added an American name, Willie, to Hong Kong for his nickname Hong Kong Willie.
While Brown grew up to be an artist, he left the world of mainstream art to return to his background in technology.
“But on Nov. 13th, 1981 … on a Friday at 1:30 in the afternoon, I had an epiphany,” Brown says. “I was at a friend’s house right across the street,” pausing to point at a row of apartments across from his store, “and a series of events led me to rejoin the art world.”
With the help of two other artists, Brown set up his business in the Florida Keys in the early 1980s, then moved it to Tampa. Together, they believed that they were predestined for the Green Movement, and have been making art out of recyclables for close to 30 years.
How’s business? He smiles. “It’s pretty wild.”
Inside, Hong Kong Willie’s art includes glossy pieces of driftwood restored and painted with beautiful landscapes and kernels of truth, some of the gorgeous work priced in the six figures. But there’s also a wide collection of handmade bags, wooden sculptures and sassy bracelets for more moderate prices.
A portion of the proceeds go to benefit the Green Movement, Brown says.
With a laid-back swagger, Brown continues. “We live pretty minimally. And all the funds we get from donations and our art sales are delegated to green projects.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting when I decided to visit Hong Kong Willie. Certainly not the breathtaking art inside, and definitely not the history behind it. I’m feeling thick-headed for not visiting years ago, and say so.
Brown offers a last bit of insight:
“I’m a big believer in predestination and timing. If someone is not ready to view art, the door is closed. Every piece of art that is made, and every project we do is done for a reason. It doesn’t matter if that reason shows up the next day, or walks in six years later; every piece of art will find a home.”
To Live a life in the art world and be so blessed to make a social impact. Artists are to give back, talent is to tell a story, to make change. Reuse is a life experience
Famous Key West Lobster Buoy Artist Hongkongwillie Art
MYSTERIOSITY
$176,000 U.S. Dollars
Hong Kong Willie Gallery
.
"Black Bird of Key Largo"
The
allurement of the winds blowing in the palm trees and the moon shining
through and the "Black Bird of Key Largo" looking upon.
Hong Kong Willie
**HONG
KONG WILLIE artist Kim Brown, chose aged Florida sawmill stock as
canvas. Recovered Brass Hanger: Key West lobster trap rigging.
Originally connects and suspends rigging of spiny lobster traps in Key
West waters. Candy-like appearance due to multiple protective layers.
Assigned number in artist register by Fisherman ID tag, corresponding
burn-etched # rear of piece. Key recovered by Robert Jordan, acclaimed
treasure hunter: also in identification of piece and artist.
Dimensions:
24" L
8" W
4" H
Weight: 17+ LB
.
John 3:16
King James Version (KJV)
16For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
.
Eye of Toucan - Hong Kong WIllie
Original Art $8100.00
To Buy Click This Link
Hong Kong Willie "Eye of Toucan"
Authentic Key West influenced art. What once would have been sawdust spread to the wind, is now what you see here.
Superior reuse of materials.
Wood Source: Aged Sawmill Stock
Copper Hanger Source: Reclaimed Wire
Backing Screw Source: Reclaimed Brass Screw
Key West Fisherman ID Tag Referenced in Artists Log
Hong Kong Willie Artist: Kim Brown
.
.
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