The Legend of the Toaster Girl (AKA Why do I paint toasters?)

Allow me to set the scene: it’s my second year in college, and I’m taking my first painting class. I was shy to the point of being a borderline hermit, never socializing with my classmates if I didn’t absolutely have to. I wore an extra baggy hoodie and a baseball cap down over my eyes. Every. Single. Day. Okay, there may have been one or two days that I wore something else, but it’s not that much of an exaggeration. It’s been a long road full of conscious effort to become the friendly, social adult I am today. That’s probably a post for another day, though.
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I never intended on being a professional artist. Not even when I was in art school, taking a bunch of art classes and majoring in art! I just wanted to draw my comics, my little demons, and anthropomorphic anime characters (anthropomorphic means “having human characteristics,” i.e. a cat with a human body, wearing clothes, etc.) and to work in Adobe Photoshop editing photographs for 12 hours a day.

This painting still hangs in my mom's house.

I had never really painted before taking this class, and I struggled with it. I loved drawing my comics, striving to perfect an anime style. But a painting of a still life of some blocks? I couldn’t sigh deeply enough. My poor professor, she knew I was artistically inclined and had been waiting over two years (we were introduced while I was still in high school) for me to take one of her art classes, and then it turned out I pushed back with most of her assignments. For example, the still life of blocks. She had us add a thick texture paste to the canvas prior to applying the paint. I used tape to define the shapes of the blocks and added a little bit of the paste in some specific areas. Every time my professor walked past, she would say “Haley, put more texture on that canvas.” So I would add some off in the corner of the canvas. Then, “More texture, Haley.” So I added a little more paste in a different corner. And then, “MORE TEXTURE, HALEY.” Eventually, she gave up on me saying, “You clearly have a plan for this, so I’m going to leave you alone.”

Along comes the surrealism assignment. Surrealism? What on earth is that? I was familiar with Dali’s melting clocks, I mean, who isn’t? But what actually is surrealism? (Merriam-Webster defines surrealism as “the principles, ideals, or practice of producing fantastic or incongruous imagery or effects in art, literature, film, or theater by means of unnatural or irrational juxtapositions and combinations.” There you have it, clear as mud.) Fast forward a couple of years to a different art class at a different college, where I was assigned a surrealism piece again. I created a piece with a female fairy in a landscape of giant grass and mushrooms. The instructor said, “This isn’t really surrealism, this is fantasy.” To which I (very honestly) replied, “What’s the difference?” He opened his mouth to respond, thought for a moment, and then shrugged. It’s still one of the great unanswered questions in my life.
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But back to 2005. I started my surrealism painting with a landscape: a bright green grassy meadow and a bright blue sky with huge puffy white clouds. I added a sun and a moon in the sky but then turned the sun into a lion and the moon into a crescent-shaped shell of a turtle. Then I added three white toasters in the grass, one of which was leaping joyfully into the air. They have no facial features except eyes (kind of,) little stubby feet, and their electric cords are tails.

The first toaster painting in all its glory.

My stepson, Joel, told me once that he thought the painting (which currently lives in our hallway) was of elephants, with the cords being their trunks. I said, “You thought I was just drawing and painting a bunch of elephant butts this whole time?” He did.

I actually enjoyed creating these frolicking toasters, and was decently pleased with the painting – a rare occurrence, as I did not enjoy most of my painting assignments. When it came time for my review, my professor sighed deeply and admitted, “You know, Haley, I just don’t like your art.” Oh… okay. ☹ “But children need real art too.” Oh, okay. 😊
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The toasters didn’t make another appearance for many years. I was running an art gallery in Spirit Lake, IA, and doodled out a second toaster, this time heroically posed beside a fork-tree. I put a print of it up for sale, just to see what would happen. Somebody purchased it! I printed another, and somebody bought that one too. What a bunch of weirdos.

I had no idea what I was starting when I made this.

Later, I was set up at a studio tour and happened to have another framed print of my “Noble Toaster” for sale there. A woman stopped and exclaimed, “You’re the toaster girl!”

I am? Is that a thing people say about me? It sure is now.

I made a few more pieces with my toasters. Then I got my first commission for a toaster painting. I made more toasters. People began to collect them, wanting multiple pieces of toaster art for their walls! What on earth is happening?! I even won an award for “Shockingly Buoyant Swimmer.” I enjoy making them and people keep asking for more! It’s a wondrous cycle!

I have now embraced my title of “Toaster Girl,” with new toaster paintings and drawings, a toaster-themed children’s counting book (set for publication in early 2023,) and toasters on my business cards. Honestly, it’s not me that has the toaster fetish. It’s everyone else! We only own one toaster in our home, and it’s used daily and full of crumbs. It’s not antique, or even a cute model, and it’s certainly not precious. But as long as people want more toasters, I’ll continue to create them!