HOLY FRIT is a documentary, 7 years in the making, that is finally making its nationwide theatrical debut in late October. Before I tell you what the film is about (it might make you stop reading) I want to introduce myself and tell a quick story...

My name is Tim Carey. I grew up in Rolling Hills, or “behind the gates” as they say on the Palos Verdes Peninsula. In the summer of 1996, I was a semester away from graduating from UC San Diego with a degree in Biochemistry and Cell Biology. My GPA was horrible, and my prospects for a career in science were non-existent. One day I got a call from my mother, who at the time was a behaviorist in the PV school district and was in the process of seeing her 5th child finish up high school at Peninsula. Suffice it to say she had more than a sense of what her kids needed and when they needed it. And when I say "her kids" I mean not only her five, but most of the kids on the hill, having been a fixture in the community as a mom and a behaviorist for 20 years.

“I think you should go to art school,” she said. She was calling to let me know about an elite art school in Pasadena, called Art Center College of Design. At this time in the late 90s, the art world had begun to go digital, and there was a big market for artists in the commercial and entertainment design world. So she piqued my interest. I have always loved drawing. As a kid I spent countless hours drawing my favorite sports figures. I always excelled in my art classes in school, and I frequently wondered if there was a way to be a professional artist without being “starving.” Coming from a family of doctors and lawyers, I was not super interested in taking on a risky career with a high potential failure rate.

I’m now a year shy of my 50th birthday. It’s been 27 years since that phone call. And 24 years since I graduated from the Illustration program at Art Center. I have been a professional artist now for more than half my life. What started as a kid with “Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain” in Sr. Rachel’s class at St John Fisher, evolved into my mastery of pen and ink (and Tetris) in Mr. DiSanto’s basic design class at Miraleste. Even at UCSD I found time to draw, casually sneaking in a Minor in Fine Arts as I wallowed away in my bio classes. But it was Art Center, and the discovery of Rembrandt and Cezanne, Diebenkorn and Freud, that, for better or worse, made me certain that I wanted to pursue this path, and set me off on the journey to being the starving artist that I now am. I owe it all to my mother. ..thanks Mom??

OK, back to Holy Frit. I’m still not ready to tell you what it’s about. But one of the opening scenes shows me driving a van through downtown LA, and exclaiming to the camera “Damn my family! How dare them give me everything I wanted and needed….they gave me no opportunity to struggle!”…”That’s why I could never become a REAL artist.” For the longest time that’s really how I felt. The stories we all hear about the great artists, painters, musicians…all the really famous ones have great stories; stories of pain, or struggle, or overcoming. There’s mental illness, addiction, family struggle- these things are the seedlings for most of the art that our contemporary society has deemed worthy. And I had none of it.

When I went to Art Center in 1997, I was surrounded by many of the stereotypical 20th century artist-types. Mohawks, tattoos, piercings, drugs…painting with urine, anarchist art, and generally speaking, a very expressive community of artists who really had something to say. Me? I played golf, watched sports, wore polo shirts. No tattoos, no piercings, no drugs…..No chance. To be a REAL artist, that is. It’s very odd to be in a situation where by not being the “weird” one, I in fact was, the weird one. (and I mean this in no way negatively- I made great friends amongst my Art Center classmates).

It didn’t take long at Art Center for this this reality to set in and lead to a questioning of my decision to choose this path. But by then it was too late. I could never unsee that Rembrandt portrait, that Freud nude, or that Diebenkorn landscape. I desperately wanted to learn to paint like the Masters. So I spent my 3 years at Art Center focused on learning painting methods and drawing techniques, attending figure drawing workshops daily, and honing my craft. This allowed me to ignore the reality that I wasn’t a subversive, emotional, expressive artist. But not for long…

Entering into the “Art World” after graduating from Art Center gave me the opportunity once again to find out that I was never going to be a REAL artist. Countless rejection letters from galleries. “Your work is charming,” “you’re talent is undeniable, but it’s just not the right fit”. And many other quotes like these. I was always told that my work was beautiful, but was never accepted into a major gallery. I was sure it had to do with my boring story and lack of eccentricities. But I carried on, and for 4 or 5 years my work bounced around in small galleries around LA and Orange County. I also worked side jobs and did portrait commissions and murals to stay busy.

Well thank God for side jobs…

Stained glass is a medium that has been around for more than a thousand years. We have all experienced it as a viewer in our lives. Usually it plays a decorative “bit part” in our experiences in church or maybe a craftsman or Spanish style home. Rarely do we stop and really look at stained glass as an art form. When I began working at Judson Studios, the Los Angeles Stained Glass Studio that has been a fixture in the area since 1897, I just needed a side job. Something to do to make money while I pursued my painting career. But, like that moment of flipping through the Rembrandt book at Art Center, something clicked in me instantly. A tour of the studio, and a couple of days working with paint and glass and light, and I was hooked. I became obsessed with glass and its ability to do the thing that I loved about oil painting, but…for real. To create artwork that wasn’t just mimicking the effects of light cosmetically, but actually contained light. I think most importantly though, I discovered that the medium of stained glass could be a place for me to create an artistic voice, that would not only continue to satisfy my desires to design, draw and paint….but that I could actually use my skills in combination with this old world medium to do something new and unique as a fine artist. But would that make me a REAL artist? Ok, Pinocchio...

One thing I really hate to do, especially when writing something like this, is come to conclusions about myself. I don’t think that is useful for anybody who is listening or reading. I try very hard not to say things like: “I do this, I made that, I went here, and did X Y and Z, therefore I AM….this or that….” I really don’t know what I AM. I know what I’ve done and what I was thinking about when I did it. And I like to share that kind of stuff. I learn the most in life by watching people and listening to their stories. That’s how I learned from my parents, and that’s how I learn as an artist.

I know that the more I worked with glass, (and probably matured as a human slightly) the less I obsessed over that whole trite stereotype of a REAL artist. I got back on the pendulum swing back toward just putting my head down and trying to focus on technique and execution of a new (for me) medium. Like I did when I discovered Rembrandt, it became all about learning and making. But this time it stuck. My glass journey has been so filled with mountains to climb and new paths to wander, that my need for significance as an artist has been supplanted by my desire to simply make beautiful artwork out of a beautiful medium. The twists and turns of this journey are many and significant, but I’ll leave them for another story at another time. But let’s talk about Holy Frit now...

In 2014, 10 years into my stint at Judson Studios, I created a design for what was to be the largest stained glass window ever made, for the largest mainline church in America. And I had no idea how to make it. But after winning the commission I had no choice but to follow the old Ray Bradbury philosophy…”Jump off the cliff, and grow your wings on the way down…"

Filmmaker Justin Monroe followed my journey as I fell into the 3 year wormhole that was the making of “The Resurrection Window.” I can’t tell you whether I pulled it off or not. You’ll have to watch the movie. But I can tell you that much of the story of my artistic journey is revealed in the film. And that a man named Narcissus Quagliata helps me grow my wings. His already healthy plumes grow slightly as well as we attempt something that walks the line between the ridiculous and the sublime.

The choice to design something that I don’t know how to make, is consistent with some of the other significant choices I’ve made throughout my adult life. The choice to go to art school instead of pursuing science, the choice to become a painter instead of taking the safer commercial art route…the choice to try and revive a centuries old medium and make it relevant again…and most recently the choice to leave a stable job and start 2 companies that revolve around glass. Though these choices are risky in and of themselves, when you keep in mind the support and encouragement I’ve had from my family, they are hardly risky. It’s not hard to jump off the cliff when you know there’s always going to be soft landing below. I suppose this is probably a typical PV story. And to tell the truth, I don’t know what to do with this reality, other than to be grateful and try not to feel TOO guilty.

So have I found significance as an artist through this foray into glass as a fine art form? I think I have. Glass has opened the doors for me to create unique, light filled paintings that can light up public spaces and create glowing wall pieces inside private homes. Even making traditional stained glass in churches, for all to see for what may be centuries to come, fills me with tremendous satisfaction. Do I still have the desire for personal recognition as an artist? Yea, I do. But it doesn’t rule me the way it used to. My family is still as present as ever in my life, and the values my parents instilled in me, things like hard work, gratitude and humility still win the day when my ego gets out of hand.

I think you should watch Holy Frit. Sure, I’m biased. But don’t watch it because of me. Watch it because it’s a roller coaster ride about an insane confluence of events and personalities that leads to a history making feat. And because the filmmaking and cinematography are out-of-this-world beautiful and riveting. But mostly, watch the film because it’s a real time glimpse at humans and artists trying to figure themselves out while trying to achieve something great together. And it’s a chance to see that there are so many ways to be an artist. And that against the odds, even a rich kid from PV can do it.

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