Red spray decorated a mid-city road in the early eighties,
and a young boy stared in awe. It was an invigoration of concept, a promise of an imminent ending. Even at a young
age, the sudden story of death wasn't disturbing or feared, but beauty in it's own context. A young artist, Max Sang,
took inspiration from the unexpected spray that changed his beautiful dog into a mere radiant roadkill.
He learned
in countless ways to appreciate these devastations of conventional life. Ignored by his surroundings and misunderstood
by his peers, Max found comfort in comics and horror movies. These were the tales of worst case scenario, the sculpture
of strength and empowerment. Although as a child, there is little documentation of his development- he did find his
way into the world with the development of doom and the ultimate appreciation of decompostion.
As a young
adult, Max fell deeply in love with a beautiful girl by the name of Jane- another horror fanatic. Together they spent
their years walking the path of individuality and assisting each other in the ways of the tricky puddle of prejudice.
It didn't alrm either when it was promised that they would give their lives to each other. He still remembers the day
of her death like it was yesterday.
They walked together, hand in hand, down the majesty of Young Street
in Toronto, Canada. The twosome couldn't have been happier in their quest for wedding decorations of a macabre theme,
but tragedy struck and forever Max would be forced to be without Jane for another moment. During the renovation of a
well known eatery on the central street, sheet metal met her pale neck. The arterial spray painted in moments a scene
that he'd remember all his existence- long after the funeral.
Alone in his home, there was nothing left to hold him- to take
him from the discomfort of life and show him that the worst case scenario is always tolerable. In his mind a thousand
times, he'd paint her last unintentional statements- the pooling blood of sudden death. It was the worst case scenario,
life had been drained of optimism and color. Only red remained his master. Only red was true and real. All
these horror films and comics were merely stories that would never shine a candle to his brutality.
Years
down the road, his direction had changed more often than his t-shirt wardrobe and Max began to tamper with the recreation
of his memories and saturated himself in his obsession for blood. The end result was a success in the proper combination
of elements to create a realistic prop. His own paint, the blood, was now the carriage to carry him through the art.
The drops of blood flew violently onto canvas for the first time in his mid-twenties, and in the end, he remembered the power
of appreciation. Remembering that life was within him, the hatred of consequence and tragedy was now more relevant.
He'd paint many more canvases with his brutal memories until at last the pain would crawl into the shadows of his tortured
mind.
Currenly, Max still lives in Canada and offers a special side to his many talents with his blood spatter art. Max also
does sell his special blood and specializes in masks of the horror circuit. These masks, as with the remains of his
assorted artwork, are crafted with consideration and dead-ication. Max Sang, transformed to a being of death's design,
is now known as Max-Fantastic.
For more information on Max-Fantastic, please
go to www.max-fantastic.com
