I grew up with the Grateful Dead. My friend introduced me in 7th grade back in 1978 with a tape of Aoxomoxoa. I distinctly remember pressing “play” on my cassette player — the opening notes of St. Stephen sent shivers up my spine.

My official baptism was seeing them live at Folsom Field in Boulder in 1980 for their 15th anniversary. I was 14 — and my life hasn’t been the same since!

I had this image on my bedroom wall, a reproduction of the 1966 Avalon Ballroom show poster by Stanley Mouse and Alton Kelley. They’d found a 1913 edition of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam — 11th-century Persian poetry illustrated by British artist Edmund Sullivan. Part of the poem read:
“One thing is certain, that life flies; one thing is certain, and the rest is lies.”

The skeleton image became iconic — used again for the cover of the Dead’s 1971 live album, Skull and Roses (or Skullfck*, as the band preferred).

I used to stare at that poster all the time — I even had the skull and roses head printed giant in silkscreen and tacked to my ceiling above my bed.

I was inspired by the danse macabre, the Day of the Dead, memento mori — the idea of celebrating life while you can.
To “remember that the only time is now,”
To “turn on your love light, and leave it on,”
And that “without love in the dream, it will never come true.”
“There is a road, no simple highway, between the dawn and the dark of night…”

Growing up in Colorado, I had the amazing opportunity to see them at Red Rocks many times. Their music still brings me joy —
“Inspiration, move me brightly.”

This piece is an appropriation of an appropriation of an appropriation:
A painting of a patinaed gatefold sleeve, signed by all the members (except Mickey Hart, who was on hiatus — I added his signature!).

Garcia loved Frankenstein — and I hope I was able to resurrect this image and bring it to new life. I painted it while gazing at the album cover, hoping for transcendence… just like when I was a kid.