Fog Boy © Jerry Simpson 2000 32" x 24" X 18" sold

Harry © Jerry Simpson 2004 40" x 40" x 9" sold.

Shooting The Arcade Bear © Jerry Simpson 1995 72" x 72" x 8" NFS.

Reedys Buffalo © Jerry Simpson 1997 42" x 36" x 12" sold.

The large silver half globe in the center, from a dumpster, was a large floor lamp globe. The hair (top back) is dumpster find, was part of surveying measuring instrument. And the other stuff, old car parts, are dumpster and yard sale finds.

The hair is from a tree out back. The face from a tree trunk that I cut down in my yard. The eye, tinker toy from a thrift store. Ear, rubber fried egg a thrift store find.

$40.00 of nickels. Old pinball machine, dumpster find. Old wooden bear, a gift. The metal arcade gun that I knew I had, I added later. Lost in my studio. Took me a year to find it.

The hair, old paint brushes a dumpster find. The bright color stained wood are from King Sooper grape boxes. The buffalo wood base covered with old rusted metal window blinds. The eyes light up.

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Fog Boy © Jerry Simpson 2000 32" x 24" X 18" sold

The large silver half globe in the center, from a dumpster, was a large floor lamp globe. The hair (top back) is dumpster find, was part of surveying measuring instrument. And the other stuff, old car parts, are dumpster and yard sale finds.

But plenty of his finds also have gone into building and decorating the unusual home he lives in at the edge of Interstate 25, where T-REX has eaten away the Emerson Street bridge. In 1978, he moved into a run-down home on weed-strewn property after a divorce. The place consists of a brick home and several detached sheds encircled by a high fence. Every surface has been put to work raising culture's throwaways to the status of high art. One wall is enameled with old Colorado license plates. Another pops with rusting wrenches hung from rusting nails. A gable is filled with old ceiling-light globes. Piles of marble slabs, old pots and pans and antique machinery add texture to a maze of narrow walkways. Surprises in each shed Simpson even has managed to pull a rooftop garden out of the trash, using discarded planks for decking, old pipes for railing and cast-off lawn furniture for seating. "Yeah, a lot of people are surprised when they come in here," Simpson says. "They don't expect it." The biggest surprises are inside each shed. They pop with the color of thousands of mass-produced toys, lunchboxes and tin advertising signs he culled from thrift shops in the 1980s. Even in his kitchen, hundreds of worn pots and pans and other wares form a heavy iron fringe over the small space. "It's an overload really, like my artwork," he says. "You have to study it really to see it." After years of shopping thrift stores, Simpson began going through industrial trash bins in 1988, when he quit a career as a graphic artist to become a fine artist. Knowing money would be tight, he needed a cheaper source of sculpture supplies. Waste not ... "If everybody did what I do, we might get along with the world much better," says Simpson, dressed in his standard uniform: a worn snap-brim hat, Hawaiian print shirt, jeans and running shoes from thrift stores, another fertile ground for goods. "Besides wasting energy, we're wasting the world's raw materials. If we were environmentally responsible to the Earth, there wouldn't be anything in the dumpsters." Some might question the legality - if not the sanity - of Simpson's pursuit. But he does follow the rules. He avoids locked or fenced-in trash bins, instead working those whose owners have granted him permission to explore. He also avoids residential trash bins. A tour of Simpson's live-in work-in-progress begins with a tug at the pair of cow-bone handles on his gate. A narrow wood walkway threads between the brick home and a sturdy-looking shed that supports the rooftop garden. Against the right wall, Simpson has stacked plastic milk-carton crates eight-high. Each holds broken slabs of marble, sorted by color. To the left, he exhibits a pair of antique Thomas Edison recording devices, elevating their status as art by placing them on a platform made out of a large steel conveyor belt. Cobbled creations Round the corner to the right and a wall of colorful metal signs leads to a huge opening in the shed. Simpson has hung wooden teeth and eyes above the entrance, making the building look like a hungry creature. Inside is a sparkling display of art and light. Above an old sofa (a relative's castoff), Simpson has hung hundreds of his works from old Pegboard - another garbage find. No two pieces of art are alike. On the floor is a piece made entirely out of Rubik's Cubes that have been cobbled together. Swirl-colored balls cover a piece of Masonite for another sculpture. Baskets and raffia create the cartoon-like head of a lion. There also is a wild self-portrait of Simpson. "I don't care if I sell my work or not. I just enjoy exhibiting," he says, studying the wall. Artist Phil Bender, who founded Pirate, has displayed Simpson's art and works with throwaways himself. "A big part of the work is finding the objects, the chance encounter, whether it be in a dumpster or a thrift store," Bender says. "Then you take it back to your studio and you let it simmer with the other objects. "Jerry's probably got more stuff than I do, but I'm a real close second. He's so much more organized than I am, so that's his advantage." Organization is the theme that unifies the look of Jerry's home. Veer past a rectangular pile of organized granite chunks Simpson hopes to use as siding, and a tiny courtyard is revealed, carefully filled with more milk crates, piles of boards and old tables and chairs. Another wide door leads to Simpson's work studio, made out of three sheds linked together. The main studio is lined with old books and toys. Colorful lunchboxes, egg beaters and other odds and ends hang in groupings from the vaulted ceiling. In an adjoining shed, he points to floor-to-ceiling storage shelves filled with discarded beer flats. Each is labeled and contains sorted beads, sequins, rubber bands, gargoyles and flowers. The white insulation on the ceiling came from a dumpster behind an organ-transplant-shipping company. The wiring - which meets code requirements - was recycled from the trash; so was the roofing. His own living space is modest in comparison to his work areas. He spends most of his time in the yard or his studios. Accessories are free A small, well-equipped kitchen nestles in a dark shed. The galley-like space includes an old refrigerator, a sink, a stove, several microwaves and toaster ovens, a washer and dryer and a few old cupboards. A huge slab from a tree trunk serves as counter space; hundreds of cooking implements and pots hang from the rafters. "I'd like to have a beautiful kitchen in the future," Simpson says. "I like the industrial look, stainless steel." His bedroom also is modest - a small closet-size space concealed behind thousands of vintage neckties. His simple, platform bed is surrounded by more stuff, including 300 long-sleeved shirts, 500 movies on video and hundreds of National Geographic magazines. Simpson's lifestyle is not for everyone, especially those afraid of dusting. But it suits him. "I think I've been dumpster diving all my life," he says. "It's just a really creative place to find unusual items. And it's free." lehndorffb@RockyMountain News.com or 303-892-2792. Copyright 2003, Rocky Mountain News. All Rights Reserved.
 
   http://www.fastfilm.tv/index.php?fmid=130&nstart=1&start=1&v=1Fast  Fast Film TV : Another Mans Treasure Filmmaker : Michael Conti Description : "He constructs his art almost entirely out of found objects...but his sensiblities derive much more from dada and its' big brother, surrealism." -Art Reviewer Jerry Simpson lives in Denver and finds his artistic inspiration at second hand stores and in dumpsters. Discarded odds and ends and fossils are his materials and he's got twenty years' worth of them. "I've got it all organized but actually my whole yard is a junk yard." he says. However, it's a cool enough junkyard that his friends bring their friends through on tours of it." 
 " Another Mans Treasure Jerry Simpson was introduced to me by Bob Clayton, whose photography book Quite Pride I worked on back in 1987. Bob and Jerry are long time Denver residences but hail as transplants from the mid-west, I think it was Dayton, Ohio. they along with several other artist friends get together for various activities throughout the year. Jerry's background is from the commercial graphic business but a business that he walked away from when the computer came on the scene back in the late 1980s. He subsequently started really focusing on collecting items that drew his eye (which ironically have become a second line of business for him on eBay.  He told me one story of having sold a Pez dispenser that he bought originally for .05 cents for $910 which went to replacing his VW's engine. He doesn't do too bad with his artwork either, and has many fans. It is hard to capture the sense of order and placement that one finds when walking through his studio grounds. It unfortunately looks more clutter on tape but I attempted to incorporate some stills that do a better job with composition. It seems that Jerry is very aware of the placement of everything, and strives to make the constructions of his artwork lasting, probably more lasting then what the original manufactures had in mind. Anyhow, take a peek at what one man calls trash, is another man's treasure. If you live in Denver, I highly recommend that you make a trip sometime during the summer to visit his outdoor studio."

"Wow!  Talk about an interesting, fun place to visit.
I operate a tour company called New Millennium Vacations. We do a local tour, "Whimsical Denver".
The Gallery is a hit  with everyone. This man not only is creative, but unique in his transformation of everyone's discards, (junk), into world-class art. You could visit weekly and always discover something new.  In my opinion, a true Denver treasure.
Lawrence R. Weygand, President, New Millennium Vacations, Inc.", 303-755-0010, Toll Free: 1-866-899-0010
 

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ATC_MakeTrade  Artist Trading Cards are small original self-produced miniature works of art. 2 ½" x 3 ½". You don`t have to be an artist to make ATCs. The idea is that you trade them with other people who produce cards. Usually one for one. You can make single cards or small editions. All types of art, techniques, and materials are accepted; drawings, paintings, collages, rubberstamp, photographs, mixed media, sewing, metalwork, assemblages, found images, etc. On the back of the card put the title, your signature, the date, maybe your address and the number (if the card is part of an edition). Only two rules: the size of the card and no money changes hands. Trade on!