Cap Pannell Artist’s Statement When I was about four years old my dad owned a 1951 Chevrolet sedan. I thought the car was as sleek and beautiful as a rocket ship. It stood out against many of the other cars in our little West Texas town, which were black Model As, even Model T's. I asked my dad why they looked the way they did and he said “They’re old.” So in my child’s mind I thought that cars of brilliant candy-colored red, green and blue grew old and turned as black as Wayne Newton’s hair, their sleek lines sprouting fenders and detached headlights like ear hair. Their curved windshields no longer at a rakish streamlined angle but rectangular and vertical as fence posts. Their gleaming chrome hubcaps now bristling with spokes like wagon wheels. I had made my first leap of the imagination. I was once told that doing art is the great journey. With no road maps. No directions. And the only guidance you may be blessed with is intuition fueled by imagination. The result? Work that resonates. For me. And if I’m fortunate, for the viewer as well.