It was hard enough getting any kind of "in-depth" one-on-one interview with the man, the LEGEND...Mr. Bruce Guindon. It was even harder to locate anyone who'd admit to knowing him. Fewer still were those who liked him. Less than that were the number of souls blessed enough to share his life and admit they loved him. I count myself among the blessed. I find myself to be a highly qualified biographer. We're family...he's my brother! Not my blood brother, my spiritual brother. Still I can't verify fully any of the following statements. I must ask you, the reader, to separate lies from truth, myth from legend.
Bruce's origins were his first introduction to the myriad of mysteries and uncertainties that would haunt him for life. Bruce was born in Springfield, Ma in the waning winter of 1946. Who his mother was is fairly certain. The award goes to Virginia. The role of Bruce's father was played by Arthur, a brief cameo or two by Warren was possible as evidenced by siblings Arthur Jr. (oldest sibling), Barbara (older sister), and Warren Jr. (younger brother). The peculiar aspect of Bruce's childhood is that it seems devoid of any defining moments. Bruce readily acknowledges the role Arthur played in helping Virginia raise him and his brothers and sister. Several questions relative to his early years are begging to be asked. Among them: Was he a naive victim of some rare form of dyslexia? Was he ever exposed to alien mind beams? Was Arthur Sr. an alcoholic? Was Bruce exposed to sex acts before he was mature enough to understand it and cope with the experience(s)? How can we possibly know otherwise?
The following is an excerpt from one of several interviews granted by Bruce. Byron Stiffington of "The Discerning Third Eye", a pretentious art publication, conducted it. Mr. Stiffington described Bruce's style as "approaching genius, except for a lack of talent and imagination".
"Mr. Guidon, what do you think of alien mind beams or strange dyslexia?
"Uh, the name's G-u-i-n-d-o-n, Guindon. I'll see ya later, I have to go."
"Bruce, was your father an alcoholic?"
It's rumored that Bruce answered the following, but it was never published, "My father only drank when your whore of a mother bought him Cutty Sark, Stiff!!"
Other rumors abound concerning Bruce's youth. Bruce has never confirmed nor denied any of the following scenarios; he was left on the doorstep of Virginia and Arthur and adopted; he dropped out of school at the age of sixteen and later earned his G.E.D. by performing cunnilingus on his teacher, Miss Pritchard, for a full 90 minutes; he ran away from home several times, but never stayed away more than a week at a time; he joined the marine corps, and spent his time as a cook; and, finally, after the marines, he spent four years at a two-year college where he supposedly learned and refined his painting technique.
The following is an excerpt from an interview with one of Bruce's former art professors. "Mr. Jones (an alias used to protect his true identity), is it true that Bruce required very little instruction suggesting that he had natural talent and more than adequate instincts with respect to trying different art media?"
After uncontrollable laughter, Mr. Jones replied, "Bruce had an uncanny ability to take the simplest of assignments and turn them into extremely complicated messes; easily wasting half of the department's paint budget in the process. If he wasn't giving the Dean of Students multiple orgasms, he would have been expelled and arrested for impersonating a human being!"
"Is it true he was a skilled sculptor?"
After more laughter, Mr. Jones replied, "Bruce was a sculptor and a very avant- garde one at that. His method was unique. At that point in his life, he worked as a trash collector which gave him a limitless supply of objects d'art to use. He'd take whatever caught his eye up to the second floor of an abandoned apartment building. He would apply copious amounts of crazy glue all over the stuff and drop each piece off the building, one at a time, and try to hit the previously dropped item. Bruce called anything that happened to stick together a sculpture. No molding, no chiseling, no carving was done; only gluing and dropping. He called himself the "Jason Pollack" of sculpture. That gives you some insight into his creative process."
Somehow, after Bruce left the Marine Corps, the diversity of the myths exploded. I use the word myths here because no two people seem to be in agreement about the veracity of this collection of "folk tales", many misspelling Bruce's last name (Guiome, Guildon, Guindine, Gadlind, etc.). Among the more popular stories is about Bruce being homeless and living under bridges in downtown Springfield. He supposedly painted using different combinations of piss, puke, and good old-fashioned feces. His future wife saved his life; they called her the "Angel of Main Street". Bruce allegedly remained mute during this period of his life. His silence ended when he asked "Martha" (not her real name) to marry him. There are persistent rumors that Bruce was involved with, or knows who was involved with, the brutal murder of a catholic priest who was accused of being a pedophile. When asked any questions concerning the case, Bruce smiles and says nothing. Another story has Bruce married for some seventeen years to "Cindy" (not her real name), the car parker, before it fails and Bruce wanders aimlessly from one blue collar job to another. This is one of the few verifiable events in his life; he eventually meets and, in 1992, marries a woman named (I'm not even allowed to make up a name here, sorry.). She remains his "Angel of Mercy", as many who know Bruce insist, she must be a divine soul to remain with him. One very stubborn rumor, (folk tale) has Bruce taking turns disowning his offspring (fathered with "Cindy") and they disowning him. His children have never granted anyone an interview. Some of his closest friends call him a bastard. Not everyone, however, is a doubter or a detractor. One of his more staunch supporters is Gavin Parks, editor of "The Urban Art Warrior". Gavin thinks Bruce's work is indeed genius. He likens Bruce's style to many acknowledged masters; Picasso, Matisse, and Monet among them.
The following is an excerpt from an interview Bruce granted Gavin when biographers first attempted to chronicle Bruce's life:
Gavin: "Who that Bruce?"
Bruce: "What the fuck? What is that? Is that urban-speak, ghetto slang, just another way to be hip and sound incredibly stupid at the same time?"
Gavin: "Mr. Guindon, I'm a huge fan. I just want a few moments of your time."
Bruce: "You actually said my name correctly. I suppose I could answer a couple of questions."
Gavin: "I think you're an amazing urban artist! What inspires you?"
Bruce (after a minute of silent seething): "Mr. Parks! I am not urban! I am not suburban! I'm not even rural or country! I'm universal! I'm one elegant, universal bastard! I react to what all artists react to! My world becomes your world, just as your world becomes mine! Excuse me, I've got to take a shit!"
That was the last interview ever granted to anyone. Bruce is in his sixties now, on viagra, creating every day and keeping secret (or so he thinks) that he has one of the biggest, most loving hearts in this most fortunate universe!
Biographer not known. Is in hiding. Is in fear for his life.