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CRAIG
RIPPON
Photo: Anthony Masters

a candid conversation with the provocative artist

Interviewer, Human Resources Specialist
The year is 2024, and we’re seated in his living room in June. I’d only spoken with Craig Rippon on the phone to set up this interview. I’d listened to him talk about his “pin-up” art long enough to feel that no matter if one loved his work or thought both him and it pretentiously amusing, there was no doubt that he believed in what he was doing. As an African-American woman of mixed heritage with vaguely feminist leanings, I was interested in hearing him expound on his art, even as I was somewhat put off by the work itself. When and if I’d given any thought to pin-up art at all, it only registered in my mind’s prereferral as titillating low-brow entertainment for young men and incels. Craig was unphased when I confessed this to him. “People are slow, they’ll catch up,” was his response. “Ouch,” I thought. If he meant that as a small dig, I couldn’t tell. His wife walked into the living room from the backyard with her two dogs, Shelby and Harley, a purebred Corgi and a tea-cup Yorkie. She introduced herself, greeting me warmly before she excused herself and headed upstairs. Craig offered me a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon; I accepted, and we both took sips from our glasses as I took out my recording device. The following is our interview.

Eris Cozbi: How did you develop your artistic interests?

Craig Rippon: I’ve always loved art; drawing has always been something that I have done. When I was very young, I grew up in a tough neighborhood, and I was a small, sickly kid who used to have seizures. Kids in my neighborhood liked to bully me. At about seven years old, some teenagers thought it would be fun to beat me unconscious with a bat…fun for them, I guess. I was almost drowned and thrown off a roof by the kids I tried to play with. So, after a couple of incidents like that, I developed interests that kept me in the house. I drew everything I could think of. I would sit on one side of the living room and draw the other side, and then when I finished, I would switch sides and do the same again. Being beaten with a bat can inspire a lot of artistic interest.

Eris Cozbi: Where were you trained as an artist?

Craig Rippon: I went to Art and Design High School and took a course at the School of Visual Arts in New York City, but all of what I learned there has been made obsolete by computers, Photoshop, and Adobe Illustrator. I taught myself all the things I’ve learned about painting. My father gave me my first art lesson, which I remember very clearly. It was a lesson in perspective. My father was a sculptor and a ceramist. I later found out that on my father’s side, my entire family are artists in one form or another.

Eris Cozbi: Tell me about your favorite medium.

Craig Rippon: I really love oil paint, but it took me a long time to approach it because I was intimidated by the medium. When I thought of the old masters that every artist reads about and hears about, they used oils, so it took me a long time to work up the nerve to paint with oil.

Eris Cozbi: What is your ambition as an artist?

Craig Rippon: Appropriating pin-up as a genre to challenge conventional ideas of beauty; the Black female form and complexion are a canvas I intend to use to paint uncomfortable truths. I have been greatly influenced by past artists such as Alberto Vargas, Gil Elvgren, and George Petty, but my favorite erotic artist is Hajime Sorayama. Within the genre, women of color have been largely ignored; I intend to correct that. Finnish artist Touko Laaksonen, better known as Tom of Finland, is largely responsible for militaristic erotica that is a part of the gay community, it was Tom’s erotic drawings that gay men sought to emulate that created that style of costuming. I’d like to have that kind of an impact on African-American women artistically, leading them away from cartoonish imitations of European beauty standards; that’s my ambition.

Eris Cozbi: Black female sensuality interests you; would you consider Black women to be your muse?

Craig Rippon: I have never met that ethereal individual woman who is a muse for me, maybe one day. But, in a broader sense, the Black woman is a muse within a larger historical framework because she’s connected to Black people. I’m fascinated by the thread of strength, spirit, and resilience that runs through Black women. Those are qualities that the African-American woman has in a way that is scarcely seen in any other woman. Those are qualities that make a muse … at least for me.

Eris Cozbi: Since you are dedicating much of your practice to the image of Black women, do you feel obligated to portray Black women in more totality, for example, like the artist Mickalene Thomas?

Craig Rippon: I’m familiar with some of her work and have seen some interviews with her. What she’s doing and has done should be done, but I’m on a different track than she is. I’m a man looking at the Black female form and am interested in exploring her sexuality. However, I’m also interested in the history of Black people and how that history has shaped Black women. That’s why I include historical elements in my work. I recognize the Black woman as more than just her sexuality, and I intend to explore what makes her who she is and, by extension, what makes us who we are. I’m not interested in painting nude women for the sake of painting nude women. If it were just about doing that, I wouldn’t do it.

Eris Cozbi: Do you feel your work challenges society's perception of Black women?

Craig Rippon: Only in the sense that I’m putting certain things in your face. I’m trying to make my viewers contend with certain realities and open honest conversations about race and history to make people aware of things they may have never heard of. I also want to give historical context to the Black woman’s “attitude.”

Eris Cozbi: What specific light do you hope to shed on the stereotypical “attitude” of the African-American woman?

Craig Rippon: Well, for one thing, I’m glad that you phrased your question that way, “African-American woman,” because the attitude in question is a uniquely American phenomenon. It was something that developed largely as a defense mechanism, a coping strategy that helped her as a woman survive and function in an environment that was hostile to her as a woman. She had to develop a callous around her femininity, shielding herself from systemic racism and its effects on her and on the Black man in their household, which, of course, didn’t promote a healthy male-female dynamic. All these things created stress upon stress and in her relationships with the men in her life. The Black woman is never seen as a victim, even when it’s obvious that she is. The ramifications of all that pressure and internal stress you can still see today in many Black women impacting how they maneuver through the world. However, much of what I’ve described explains that “attitude” came out of the 50s through the 80s; now, it's become something that is a part of how young Black women may act, but they’re disconnected from the origins and purpose of that behavior. Like the appendix, a hard masculine attitude once served a much larger purpose. However, now it has become problematic in various ways.

Eris Cozbi: Speaking for myself and, if you’ll allow it, as a voice for the African-American woman, my question is have things changed in our society so much that we as Black women no longer need that protective shield?

Craig Rippon: I’d say two things to that, first to the younger group of Black women born in and around the 80s, put a dimmer switch on the attitude. You may still need it but perhaps turn down the intensity a bit. You may not need to blind people with the glare all the time. Second, stop saying things like “I don’t need a man.” That’s just foolish we need each other; no other woman says that. That statement has become the American Black woman’s mantra.

Eris Cozbi: I don’t agree with you on that point, white women say that as well, it’s not wholly a Black woman thing.

Craig Rippon: Yes, they say it, but in mass no other group of women have ever disowned their men in the way that the African-American woman proudly proclaims she has. If you live long enough to see this country implement mandatory registration for the draft of women, you’ll see how many white feminists will suddenly get the urge to bake pies, get married and get pregnant. Third wave feminism taught you that and the Black woman like Black people in general always believe with all of themselves more than white folks do.

Eris Cozbi: I wouldn’t call myself a “third wave feminist,” but I do strongly believe in many of the tenants of the feminist ideology.

Craig Rippon: That’s fine, so do I, but feminism as far as I can tell is largely an argument between the white woman and her man. I have yet to have a Black woman explain her role in feminism that truly makes sense to me. If tomorrow all the feminist’s agenda points were addressed and you as a feminist felt that there were issues specific to you as a Black woman that were still on the table, believe me those issues would be swept aside and you would be told “the feminist agenda has been satisfied.” At that point, I’d dare you to look around and expect help from your white feminist colleagues.

Eris Cozbi: OK, we strayed a bit. Let’s get back on point … why pin-up art specifically?

Craig Rippon: Pin-up as a genre is an American art form that came about during World War II. The African-American woman, with her attitudes, mannerisms, and mentality, is also an American creation. Pin-up as a genre has also been one of the contributing factors that lead to the white woman’s mentality and the way that she approaches the world and carries herself in it. Pin-up, in my mind, is the perfect vehicle to deliver messages about African-American women and, in a broader sense, Black people and how they relate to the world around them.

Eris Cozbi: How did you arrive at the title of your series “American-Woman a Pin-up (Lynching) Series" ?

Craig Rippon: I like the play on the word “pin-up” set against the word “lynching.” It’s not too much deeper than that, really, but it’s also from a joke I heard D.L. Hughley say about white folks liking to see Black people pinned up…that’s a strong paraphrase on my part because I can’t remember the joke verbatim.

Eris Cozbi: How did the idea of merging social and historical elements into your form of pin-up art come about?

Craig Rippon: For starters, Painting “pin-up” art of Black women had to be about more than “Look, white artists do it. I can do it, too.” But, let me stay on track with your question. Years ago, I was having a conversation with a white acquaintance, I don’t remember how we wound up talking about things like my interest in pin-up art and what I might do to make my ideas for my own art more interesting, he suggested that I incorporate uncomfortable symbols into my artwork and said that maybe putting a Nazi swastika into some images. I told him that the swastika didn’t make me uncomfortable the American flag did. He was surprised, so I explained that when I was younger and would visit my white friends in their neighborhoods, I always saw American flags hanging on the porch of a lot of the houses. Eventually, I’d hear that "Black Magic" word …nigger! One time, after hearing that word, I was hit by an egg. I remember thinking, why would anyone run into their house and grab an egg just to throw at someone passing through? It seemed crazy to me. Anyway, that conversation got me thinking about putting certain symbols and historical images into my art, which led me many years later to where I am now.

Eris Cozbi: Do you view your work as political?

Craig Rippon: Social commentary, historical documentation, yes, but I think I’m just calling attention to what I think about. I’m not trying to be political. To me, the question is, do you view my art as being political? I’m just being me; I’m just expressing myself in a way and through a genre I like.

Eris Cozbi: I read that Donald Trump's 2016 election greatly impacted you and your decision to paint these types of paintings. Can you elaborate on that?

Craig Rippon: Well, when Obama was elected, I had the idea for some paintings but never started working on them because I was under the delusion that people, in general, were beyond caring about the sorts of things that I wanted to address in my art but after Obama then came Trump. Donald Trump is the nigger that many people thought Obama was going to be. I don’t know anyone who actually believes that Obama would have even gotten the Democratic nomination if he had five percent of Donald’s charges leveled against him, the hush money to a porn star, classified documents case, election interference, the Georgia election interference case…I could go on… I mean, really. Then there’s the three wives, not to mention women who have accused him of rape and he has several “baby mamas.” You can’t tell me honestly that you believe Obama could have had any of these accusations against him and still been allowed to run for the highest office in the land? They almost went crazy when Obama wore a tan suit. Many white people who support him are white nationalists, and the Blacks who support him are just stupid coons. Many but not all of these white folks who blindly follow Trump are only doing it because he’s a white man; of course, they don’t think about it that way. His rhetoric doesn’t sound any different than what they've heard their father, brothers, and uncles say most of their lives. So, things that he vomits out into the world don’t hit them the same way it strikes someone like me or another non-white person. As far as I’m concerned, I can tell Trump is lying by the fact that his mouth is moving. I paint my thoughts, I try to go “hard in the paint.” I make my statements, and then it's on to the next painting. I don’t like arguing politics…argue with the paint.

Eris Cozbi: What kind of messages are conveyed through your art?

Craig Rippon: I hope to send a message of self-appreciation to African-American women. An artistic request that asks Black women to stop aesthetically assaulting themselves. Stop poisoning your scalp with glues, weaves, and chemicals that have been shown to damage your hair and scalp. Stop plastering your face with so much makeup that your skin cannot breathe and breaks out in pockmarks and scars; stop justifying being obese by saying that you’re “big-boned,” and stop burning your skin with skin bleaching and skin lighteners. You know, I walk down the street sometimes, and oftentimes, when I see a Black woman, I find myself staring; the woman I’m looking at might think I’m lusting, but I’m wondering what she looks like without all of that makeup. At the start of my series on African-American women, I spliced photos together to create the woman that I wanted to make my transfer sheets. But going forward, I hire models to fit into costumes, and strike poses that I need to see for my work. I ask that they get rid of the weave and fake eyelashes and, in some cases, tone down the makeup so I can artistically highlight their true beauty and sensuality. I’ll even pay them extra so that if they want to put that fake hair back in their heads, they can do that. But for the purposes of my paintings, I don’t want to see that. One of the most tragic things for me to see is a Black woman with fake blonde hair, blue or green contacts in her eyes, fake eyelashes, and a BBL (Brazilian Butt Lift.) The internalized self-hate is so much a part of who many Black women are that they view it as self-love. I can’t help but think about that scripture that says, “Woe to them who call evil good and good evil.”

Eris Cozbi: Who are some contemporary artists whose work you admire and who inspire you?

Craig Rippon: I kind of have a tier list of artists who I like, so at the top of my first tier is:
I like these artists because they create work that makes you think and challenge ideas and preconceived notions about reality. My second tier is:

Eris Cozbi: You seem to have a great deal of admiration for figurative art. Do you only open yourself up to that form of expression?

Craig Rippon: Not at all. I like work that has passion. It doesn’t have to be figurative, but it does have to have passion. I like:
Their passion was evident in their work. Many people who call themselves artists today seem to be hustlers creating work designed to help some collectors launder their money.

Eris Cozbi: In your painting American Lexicon, you have a black woman with all those derogatory words painted on her body. Are you concerned that Black women would feel offended by your depictions of them in that way?

Craig Rippon: If you look at the painting objectively, you’ll see that none of the words painted on her body are specific to her as a woman or of Black women; rather, they are about Black people in general. As far as finding that painting offensive, if they do get offended, then they are being disingenuous, rappers have called Black women bitches and hoes for years, and it never seemed to stop them from dancing along with the music.

Eris Cozbi: Going forward, do you expect to get much cooperation from potential models?

Craig Rippon: I don’t expect resistance from Black women. Have you been paying attention to who and what Black women cooperate with through the years? Let’s look at just a few examples, remember the rapper Ludacris’s video for his song “I’ve got hoes” do you remember all of the women dancing and shaking in his videos or the woman who allowed Nelly to swipe a credit card between her butt checks, or the black women who showed up with Snoop Dogg at an awards show on dog leashes, or the black women who were walking on all fours while a Black rapper held them on dog leashes? So, in answer to your question…no, I don’t expect to have any trouble getting a model to cooperate with me. For my part, I at least have a point with what I’m doing. I expect more resistance when I explain to a potential model that I want to paint her with her natural hair and without fake eyelashes. I want to explore what makes her beautiful as a Black woman without the mask and without the costume. I want her to appreciate her own beauty. I had a friend say something that I feel should be quoted, “I love Black women; the problem is that everything that I love about them, they don’t like about themselves.” I hope that what my work accomplishes is that it gives Black women pause to really look at themselves and appreciate themselves apart from the nonsense that they have become accustomed to applying to themselves.

Eris Cozbi: You have a great deal of passion for Black women, but you’re married to a white woman. Does that seem in any way like a conflict of interest?

Craig Rippon: Not to me. I am attracted to white women, but I didn’t start out that way; in my experience, Black women have, for the most part, not found me attractive. They always gravitated towards those guys who had “swag,” “edge,” the more street-type guys…that’s not me. I had a black woman say to me regarding my wife that I “jumped the fence,” to which I responded, “more like I was pushed over the fence.” In the end, you gravitate towards the people who appreciate you. I haven’t had some of the trouble with white women that I’ve had with Black women. A Black woman once said to me, “All men are dogs, and you’re a Chihuahua.” The sad thing is that there have been Black women who have taken an interest in me after seeing me with my wife, which says a lot about the underlying insecurities that exist in those Black women. Years ago, my wife and I went to the theatre to see the movie “Brothers.” In that movie, there was a Black character who decided to only date white women; I found out later from my wife that every time that character showed up on the screen with his white girlfriend, a Black woman seated in the back of us would kick my wife’s chair. Now, what is telling about that is that she was sitting with her date, who was a Black man. I am pretty sure that if that woman and I were without dates and I’d approached her in the theater, she would have rejected me. It was my wife that made her respond that way. When I found out about it later, I was upset with the Black woman and even disappointed in her date. Because as far as I was concerned, if she was with who she wanted to be with, he should have been her focus, not me and who I was with. It was sad that her date didn’t point that out to her, but I suspect he didn’t want to risk not getting laid that night and opted for compliance.

Eris Cozbi: What does your wife think of your art?

Craig Rippon: Mostly, she doesn’t have too much to say. She knows what paintings I have planned, so she has expressed concern that someone might try and hurt me based on the ideas that I plan on expressing (laughter). She has what I call white woman’s disease, which means she’s afraid of everything. I imagine that if I manage to make any money from my work in the future, she will have much more to say.

Eris Cozbi: Considering some of the uncomfortable racial issues your work deals with, of course, the question that some people will want to ask, and so I must ask, do you hate white people?

Craig Rippon: (Laughter) No…no I don’t hate anyone. No one is important enough that I would allow them to take up that much space in my heart and mind. It takes a lot of energy to hate, a lot of self-destructive energy.

Eris Cozbi: I’m sorry for asking that, considering you’re married to a white woman; that is probably a silly question.

Craig Rippon: Oh no, that’s not a silly question at all. Interracial marriage and interracial sex don’t cancel out racial animosity; in fact, many interracial sexual couplings have their roots in racism, so I don’t think that question is silly at all. Unfortunately, bringing up some subjects in any form causes people to ask that question about hate. I can make certain historical observations about a thing and not have hatred in my heart. Saying it’s raining outside doesn’t make me a meteorologist.

Eris Cozbi: Given your views on the image of the Black woman on the world stage, do you feel your paintings help or promote more negativity toward her image?

Craig Rippon: Let me answer that question with a true story. This happened several years ago after I’d been living in Albany for a few years. I was working at a small medical company and was one of three Black people in the entire place. Me, a young woman named Susan, and the cleaning lady. Susan and I became somewhat close, and I shared with her my artistic ideas about portraying Black women and historical imagery in my art. Susan didn’t approve of what she felt was demeaning, derogatory imagery. She and I would go back and forth about it. I would insist that what I wanted to do was important, and she didn’t agree. One day, while we were in a debate about it, one of her white friends on the job overheard us and interrupted us with what she thought was a helpful suggestion she said, “If Black women won’t pose for you or want to be involved then why don’t you just get a white women?” Susan, in a fluster of righteous indignation, turned around on her friend and, with a flash of anger, said, “Because he wants to paint Black women!?” After that statement, she turned back to me, completely oblivious to the fact that she had proved my point, and said,” My God, they think everything is about them.” My response to her then was, “And that’s why what I want to do is important.” The negativity in the Black community is internalized, self-evident, and self-perpetuating at this point. One of America’s chief commercial exports is the “nigger,” while every ethnic group has its criminal elements, its undesirables, and its underbelly, those aspects of our culture are glamorized, packaged, and marketed all over the world. Disenfranchised Blacks who are willing to sell themselves to fit into a stereotypical mode of behavior are rewarded for their subservience to a system that views them as disposable and profits from their ignorance. I offer an ideological counterpoint to what Black people have accepted and promoted.

Eris Cozbi: What response from the public have you gotten so far?

Craig Rippon: White or Black?

Eris Cozbi: Both.

Craig Rippon: Some whites seem interested but afraid of what they think is Black anger. Blacks either ignore it, don’t seem to know what to say, or, on a positive note, will say, “Keep going.”

Eris Cozbi: What motivates you to continue painting when you don’t get any public response?

Craig Rippon: I watch a lot of YouTube when I’m painting, interviews with artists like Charly Palmer, Titus Kaphar, Margaret Bowland, there’s Simon Schama’s show The Power of Art, and this artist couple that I like listening to Rafi and Klee.

They give a lot of motivational advice to artists. I keep myself motivated when and if I need to get an extra charge in all sorts of ways. To be honest, I don’t really require that much in terms of a motivational boost. I have my expectations regarding what I expect to happen regarding my art.

Eris Cozbi: Which are?

Craig Rippon: I would like to be acknowledged for what I’m doing. That would be great, but I don’t have high hopes for that. I really expect to be ignored by Blacks and whites for different reasons. From Blacks, I expect to largely be ignored because my images at face value might seem to be putting Black people down, much in the same way that Aaron McGruder’s Uncle Ruckus character caught heat because people just didn’t get it. There are a great many Black people who want to see strong Black families depicted or Black men hugging Black women with a child in their arms, or a Black queen, Black king, whatever. Look, I get it; the African-American community has been devastated by harmful images, and since the social media globalization of the world, it’s even worse. There are some people who would argue that there is no Black community, that it’s dead…extinct, I get that. So I can understand the need to see those images, and more power to the artists who want to make them, but for me, there’s just as much a need for what I’m putting forth, I like art that I hope makes you think, that makes you recognize what has happened to African-American people, and in many ways is still happening and reflect on our reactions (not always responses but “reactions”) to those things. I may sound cynical when I say this, but If, at some point, some white people pick up on what I’m saying and the reasons that I’m using pin-up as a genre to do it, then Black appreciation will follow.

Eris Cozbi: It sounds a bit harsh and perhaps unfair.

Craig Rippon: Maybe, time will tell, but do you think Black people would have appreciated someone like Jean-Michel Basquiat if he were not first acknowledged by white elitists? I don’t think so; aside from a few pieces he did in his career, I thought he himself was more interesting than most of his work.

Eris Cozbi: Why have you not artistically touched on any other ethnic group of women?

Craig Rippon: Well, I’m an African-American man, and I am impacted by things that impact my group. I have no real stake in other ethnic communities. Plus, I’m more familiar with those things that impact Black women and, by extension, Black people.

Eris Cozbi: I read that you identify as a Christian when browsing your website and reading various articles to prepare for this interview. How do you reconcile your religious beliefs with your nude figurative paintings?

Craig Rippon: Well, first, let me specify “Born again” slanting towards “Pentecostal Christian.” You know, for me, it's about the purpose of nudity. Read Isaiah chapter twenty, and you will see that over a three-year period, the prophet preached naked to the people to stress a point about future events and what would happen to the Cushites and the Egyptians. People are freaky about nakedness, which to my mind, is hypercritically strange when you consider how much porn is consumed in this country. Point of fact, the resolution on everyone’s computer screens is due to people's desire to see their porn with greater clarity. For me, I ask myself if my art is expressing the truth or if I am being truthful, that’s what is most important to me.

Eris Cozbi: What is the “truth” that you’re talking about?

Craig Rippon: Truth is always about reality, about what is real. You can take all of the instances of the word “truth” in the scriptures and replace them with the word “real” and the scripture still makes sense it works because truth is about what is actually happening…what is real. There are no “alternative truths.”

Eris Cozbi: There have been many cases of young teenage white girls who develop various eating disorders trying to fit into an artistic, almost mathematical beauty standard. So, when you talk about truth being what is “real,” do you ever question your idea of Black beauty in the light of reality and the consequences on young Black women if your ideal type of Black woman catches on?

Craig Rippon: I have given thought to the possible impact of the promotion of a more svelte body type, but I prefer young Black women become enamored with that as an ideal rather than what has become acceptable in the Black Community now. Four out of five Black women are obese. They have become so accepting of this that as much as they argue with you over their right to sew and glue other ethnic groups' hair into their head, they also argue for their right to be overweight; this has become commonplace now. It’s unhealthy, and I find it gross. The current African-American community (at least the parts that are promoted on television and social media) is a circus. Too many black women and men walk around and present themselves in shabby, disheveled ways, and they think that’s acceptable because everyone in their peer group looks and presents the same way. It’s not until they get outside of the “big tent” and realize how the rest of the world presents itself and how they are perceived that they suddenly realize that they are the clowns in a circus.

Eris Cozbi: Do you feel your work promotes the objectification of the Black female form? Are you concerned with the impact of the “male gaze” in your work?

Craig Rippon: No. Women are objectified by the male gaze, they have been and always will be. It is what it is. Should society be trying to neutralize that? Think about what that would look like. I don’t believe anyone would want to live in a world where double standards that have arisen out of the “male gaze” and social norms created around our sexuality were suddenly done away with.

Eris Cozbi: Would you like to see all Black women fit into a certain mold?

Craig Rippon: No, that would be boring. Remember years ago, Cosmopolitan Magazine covers? The women on those covers were beautiful, but to this day, I can’t remember one distinguishing thing about any of them. They all looked so much the same: tall, slim, angular faces, uninteresting and dull. So, this begs the question: what makes someone beautiful? Can you be so beautiful that you’re not beautiful, so stereotypically sexy that you lose your sex appeal? I don’t want to erase individuality or unique style; I am trying to suggest artistically to the Black woman that the uniqueness of who she is as a woman of color is being smothered by her desire to be something that she is not. Sadly, there are Black women who would be the first to rise and argue against what I’m saying, which reminds me of a time when I was on the bus going to work, and there was a Black man arguing with a white woman over his right to call himself a nigger. I thought to myself, yep, I’m in the twilight zone.

Eris Cozbi: If you don't mind, I want to touch on your website. You have stories about how you came up with the paintings, articles elaborating on your work or the subject matter that surrounds it, and video shorts. Why so much extra information for a site dedicated to art?

Craig Rippon: Yeah (laughter) seems pretentious, doesn’t it? I’m really not trying to be. I add all that extra stuff because it's important; my pin-up art is not just about naked women; it's about calling your attention to larger issues as well as providing historical information. With the Jesus Saves painting and the CRT (Critical Race Theory) painting, I hope people will take the time to watch the videos and read the articles. I wanted the site to be stylish and inviting. I lucked out when I came across Kelly McClain. He is the one who worked with me to create the look and feel of the site. He and I hit it off right away. He designed the website for an artist that I’ve admired for some time, Cbabi Bayoc.
I looked up who did his website, called up Kelly and left a message asking him to call me back ASAP. To my surprise, he called me back that same afternoon. I suggest to anyone who wants to hire a real top-notch website designer, go check out Kelly McClain.

Eris Cozbi: Well, thanks for your time. Your answers were thought-provoking. I’ll be taking a new view on pin-up art and checking out your site to see what new things you have coming up.

Craig Rippon: I appreciate your time … thank you.