In downtown San Francisco, tucked away in the time-warped decor of a 1950s diner, I meet prolific American artist Timothy Cummings. His demeanour is welcoming, his eyes like vulnerable volcanoes ready to burst into wild laughter or soft tears at any moment.
They captivate me in the same arresting way the subjects of his paintings do. As if to mock his otherworldly quality, he munches on a bowl of nachos
drowned in bright orangey-yellow American cheddar sauce and sips on a soda. Fresh from an exhibition in Sao Paulo, Brazil, we talk about his body of work, his family and the profound connection between his art and his wellness.
by Luke Anthony