Tag: cahill wessel

The first time I saw Cahill Wessel IRL he was already zipping past me, skating down Alvarado, through the neglected tent city 101 underpass, probably picking up more beer for the show. The Faded Glory exhibit was an inaugural night for the Carlos Queso Gallery, starting things off right with psychedelic renderings.  The new art space is a true studio, like the shoeboxes we’re accustomed to living in, no more than maybe a few hundred square feet, making for intimate mingling that’s often lost to the cold spaces of larger galleries. There were sincere welcomes and good conversation as janky hipsters and shaggy gutterheads grabbed wine and beer from the cooler. Sharing the bill was artist Chris Rexroad, who not only holds a stake in the new gallery, but whose frisky collisions of 40 oz. Olde English, gold chains, and nature weaved in nicely with Wessel’s kitschy cartoon visions of tropical horror. Cahill Wessel showed back up carrying his skateboard in a loose, ratty t-shirt, skinny jeans, and a worn ‘Hawaii’ tourist trucker hat. Sipping beer and chain-smoking, he was all smiles, friendly and approachable, stoked on meeting new people. He and friends were crashing Airbnb-style. They raged at Los