Inside Mike Turner's Heart: An Interview with an Artist

"The most rewarding thing is the people that come up and absolutely love you and cherish you for what you do," says Turner, "And you know, for a split second while they're kind of excited about what you do, you're kind of like a rock star, you know? I generally just love making things."

            Turner started out working in construction, back when he lived in Fort Lauderdale. The compound he uses in creating his pieces is actually used to repair walls on construction sites. Since those days, he's devised his own formula for this compound and uses it to sculpt all his pieces in a process that takes about four days, two of which are needed to let them bake under the sun. Sometimes his hearts cannot dry properly because it's too humid out. Sometimes the resin he uses reacts badly to the compound and paint, and the hearts will crack. For the most part though, Turner is pleased with the results.

            "I've sold every piece I ever made," he says softly, lowering his gaze as if he's slightly embarrassed to admit this. His fingertips are smeared with green and white paint and his eyelids are lightly spackled with glitter from the piece he made and finished right there on the boardwalk. It sold almost immediately.

            "I wondered why I started making hearts subconsciously until just about a year ago, when I got a message on MySpace from the very first girl that broke my heart," Turner says, "She said 'I can't believe your art,' because on the notes we used to pass to each other in the hallways, way back in junior high school, I used to draw her all these designs and from what she can remember, they're somewhat identical."

            Before he started making these hearts, Turner built a series of clocks inspired by Tim Burton, Dr. Seuss and Salvador Dali. The very first art piece he ever made was actually 11 clocks, inspired by a Salvador Dali poster. Turner's eyes light up with nostalgia as he recalls staring at this in his family living room, back in Florida, while he was listening to the radio, and says just as their grandfather clock began to chime, Cindi Lauper's "Time After Time" began to play.

            "It gave me goosebumps," he says, "I started sketching the pieces and the next day I bought a piece of aluminum sheet metal and made the bodies within that day...  I sold six of the clocks for a show and from then on I said, 'That's it, I'm going to be an artist forever now.'"

            Eventually, Turner wants to move away from selling his art on the Venice Beach boardwalk and start showing in more galleries around Los Angeles and Orange County. His list of future plans is momentarily interrupted as two women, their faces smeared with grime and visibly inebriated on some sort of substance, stumble past his space. One of them nicks the corner of one of his works with a scuffed combat boot and apologizes profusely. Turner shrugs this off, says it's alright, and continues with the interview.

            "I'd like to buy a school bus, travel the country and sell my artwork here and there," he says, "I plan to get into Art Basel in Miami, maybe next year... it's a big, big art festival with 3,500 artists from all over the world."

            Turner one day hopes to create "humungous pieces", the kind cities will commission him to make and put up in public parks. His dream is to make a floor standing clock as tall as a three-story building. But for now, he's content to sell his hearts until the time is right.

            "There are artists out there that do one piece a month and they're waiting tables or have someone to pay their bills for them, but honestly, if you want to make it, you've got to work harder than you would at a [9 to 5] job," Turner says, "You've got to expose yourself as much as possible, whether it be at festivals, galleries, boardwalks... anywhere and everywhere you can put yourself out there, it's what you have to do. If you want to be really successful, just put yourself out there, 100 percent."