The content of his work is largely focused on conversations and popular culture’s influence on our psyche. Gerdeman collects snippets of conversation that include cliché, irony, brilliance, and stupidity from adults and children alike. In exploring how our past can influence our present and predict our future, the majority of his focus is on lyrics from popular music. A song or lyric gets stuck in our head. It doesn't leave. It is a mantra, for minutes, for hours, sometimes for a day. It may come from the radio or someone singing it. It might just appear. He uses the “imprinted” ditty to illustrate our lives. We live, we grow, we shun our youth and childhood influences. Then, we realize they(our experiences and influences) are our fabric. Without them, we are simply thread.
Gerdeman believes that life-altering moments define who we are or who we can be. This notion is present in much of his work. Gerdeman revels in exploring moments that push us in directions that open up new possibilities or slam doors in our faces. These moments can be a huge, cataclysmic flash or a tiny revelation that instantly clouds or clears a path. The floating figures are inspired by a flying accident Gerdeman had as a young man. They are symbols for hope, wonder, and invincibility.
Gerdeman’s work is illustrative that good and evil coexist. Upon initial inspection the work may be viewed as sinister or sweet, when in fact, the opposite may hold true. His focus affirms how quirky, wonderful, and petty the human race is.
The following are explanations/writings that relate to the work on this site...
Imprint: The Smiths
believe it or not, once upon a time, the smiths were decadent. now they sound like such puss pop, although johnny mars guitar work sizzles to this day. way back, before grunge and nirvana and marilyn manson and the likes, the album cover for meat is murder and pompadoured morrisey saved more than one ass stuck in the fringes(small towns and suburban nightmares). And it wasnt like you were even called fag or queer for listening to them, just weird. this one goes out to every kid and adult who ever found something new and had the balls to be a bit original. shit, i bet the smiths are still decadent somewhere... i tip one to you all.
Imprint: Bob Seger
back a few years ago, you(I) may or may not have been mashing around in the back seat of a car on a dark road with someone who is now the spouse of a good buddy. cold autumn evening, hot sweaters, and steamed windows and the couple up front cranks the radio when seger's night moves comes on. YOu(I) still flit back to that moment and smile with a futile embarassment and blushing, heated cheeks. working on the night moves...
Imprint: Blue Oyster Cult
back in the day, some songs made you(me) feel invincible, untouchable. an eerie peace in your soul on cold afternoons and late nights walkingwith friends and the girl who laughed when you(i) said i love you. now, you(i) still feel empowered when don't fear the reaper comes on the radio, but more like, "better suck the marrow out of this s.o.b. while i am still breathing." seasons dont fear the reaper........baby, i'm your man.
Imprint: Aztec Camera
once upon a time
you(i) somehow became an idealist.
you(i) believed in the things that
elders told you(me). You(I) had
faith in schools, church, govt., popular
culture, and mostly, love.
that love could be perfect under
the right circumstances, although hard
work was required as it is for anything
worth while. you(I) went through
alot of poor relationships. squandered
emotions and beers. then she(he) appeared.
idealism won the battle.
somewhere in your heart there is the will to set it free
all you gotta be..........is true.
He wished his glory days were closer.
every friday after thanksgiving he gets together with his six or seven buddys who he has known since kindergarten or somewhere in the neighborhood. they proceed to get relatively weak on cheap beer and laughter. discussion always begins with glory days and leads to real life changes. Balding, pulled muscles, divorces, near death experiences, achievements, and new glory.
Tripping the light fantastic in their middlish years. closing down the night in the dirtiest bar imaginable and then he goes home only to wake up to headaches, screaming happy children and his lifelong best friend. not so bad actually, quite nice. His glory daysgone until next thanksgiving.
I have thin skin.
you(I) should be careful what you(I) say to some people. because if you(I) are mean and spiteful regularly or only occasionally that crap will come back and bite you(me) in the rear end. you(I) should know better. like your(my) mom used to say "IF you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."
They were pretty darned happy.
If you've(I've) found the one, you(I) should know exactly what it all means. That happiness does not come from always being ridiculously, stupidly joyful and lovelorn, but from lifting one another up in troubled times, finding the perfect balancing act on the see-saw, from adventures that test wills, time, and space. You(I) should hope this for everyone.
I know your tiny secrets.
all of us have little secrets that we would die if others knew. little goofy things like pulling the skin on your elbow when you're nervous, or scratching your ear nose or chin, smelling your skin or any sensual oddity. when you find your soulmate, you are privy to those little secrets, they become part of the bond that makes everything alright no matter what. you don't have no steenking secrets??? yeah right...
imprint:gordon lightfoot
What ghost haunts you(me)? Is is that mom or dad who never gave you(me) attention, money, love, affection, respect, hugs, or candy? Is it that one kid you(I) made fun of relentlessly while growing up? Maybe it's that weirdo who screamed at you(me) while in the big city for the first time. Maybe you(I) are someone's ghost... Maybe.
I think i know where this is headed.
Sometimes you(I) get a premonition on how bad things might get if you(I) continue on this road/flight. There is only one thing you(I) can do in that case, have the balls to step on the brakes or bring this baby in for a landing.
These days are numbered.
You(I) know these perfect days are so danged swell when they come. Not too hot and not too cold, but change is on the horizon, coming soon. cherish the days while you(I) have them, time flies like a mad crow.
Step outside your skin
Step outside your(my) skin
See me(you) for who I(you)am(are)
brains, blood, and bones
beyond neighborhood, culture, upbringing
Step outside your(my) skin
Circulation
You(I) shouldn't rely
on brains alone
You(I) might get light headed
get dizzy
fall down and break a bone
get a gut
fall down again
lose some hair
end up alone.
Imprint: The Church
If you(I) only knew that you(I) really didn't know squat as a 21 year old, don't you(I) think you(I) would've done things alot differently. Wasted nights, dollars, brain cells, friendships, beers, hours upon hours of art making and guitar playing, spending time at home, saying "i love you" to the important ones. Under the guise of some shitty masturbatory "soul searching," you(I) could've opted for creating rather than searching. No regrets though.
Wish i knew what i was looking for, might've known what you would find.
Imprint: Soul Asylum
I was driving on the westside of cowtown last week when Soul Asylum's "Easy Street" came on the radio. That song epitomized(sp) the waning moments of my single life, in 1990, long hair, and a job as a overnight delivery guy in Newark, Ohio. So I went apeshit listening to the song, snapping my fingers, bobbing my big old bald melon, groovin to my past and this song that was IMPRINTED in my skull. I looked out the window to my left and two brothers were laughing their asses off at me. I smiled, whatcha gonna do? There are no easy answers, questions remain tough...
Focus
You(I) find the stupid littlest things to obsess about. So that focusing on the important things is next to impossible. The key, maybe, is better mental health through medication of some sort, you(I) don't know. Focus stupid ass, focus...
psychosomatic
You(I) obsess on so much crap that you(I) make your(my)self sick in the gut, sleepless at night, drink too much, medicate , take short breaths, smoke cigarettes, get the scoots, etc. What is the answer for you(me)? You(I) are(am) sure that no one else could have these same wierd problems. Right?
the helping hand
You(I) working pretty freaking hard. So hard that you'd(I'd) really profit from an extra hand, perhaps an extra eyeball as well. But lets stick with the extra hand, besides the obvious fact(as stated by a five year old boy living under my roof) that people would think you(I) are(am) a "weird one," you(I) could drink an extra drink while typing, hammer many things effectively while typing, or give an extra hug, shake, spank, caress, peace sign, flip, etc. etc. You(I) would be
Inspired by a great secretary at my workplace.
imprint: the cure
There comes a time in your(my) life where nothing makes as much sense as it used to(Bye bye childhood), and you(I) searched high and low for meaning outside the confines of your(my) neighborhood. You(i) tried punk, ultra-religious, ultra drunk, etc. etc. and then it was music that aimed your(my) lost little soul in the direction that made all the difference. Thanks Robert Smith and boys.
"in between days." the cure 1985 or so...
you win you lose you stink
everyday brings promise, disappointment, or odor. You(I) can let the old noggin get huge, get humble, or get downright smelly. If you(I) can find a nice mindset somewhere in the middle of winning, losing, and humility, it'll be just like an application of all day deoderant. cha cha cha