My name is Logan Madsen.  I am a 36 year old self-taught-fine-artist from Salt Lake City, Utah with I AAS in Graphic Design/Multimedia.  I live alone, with my dog Charlie. I have a rare condition called Miller Syndrome(less than 30 documented cases worldwide) which affects muscle and bone formation, causes hearing loss and a few organs. Additionally, I have a lung condition and Autism Spectrum Disorder(ASD).  My older sister, Heather,suffers from the same disabilities.  In 2010, we were the first family in the world to get our entire DNA genome sequenced.  Scientists found that Miller Syndrome is a recessive gene. They also found Primary Cyliary Dyskinesia(PCD) –also a recessive gene- which is the cause of our lung disease, Bronchiectasis.


I get it… I do.  I have the same reaction.  The unknown is scary.  Being scared is a negative feeling and wanting to stare is simply human nature.  Anxiety is created because of these opposing reactions.  I had to find a way to bridge the gap between you and me without anxiety being a factor.  With this exhibit I want to bare my reality for everyone to see.  Once I put it out there, it will be OUR reality.  I want you to stare at my paintings.  You will see there is beauty and magic that exists in even a small patch of skin.  

Extracting subtle detail from life is the basis for my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder(OCD).  This hyper-awareness requires most of my attention; which, in new social situations, leaves me just enough room for simple responses.  I have come to believe that this is exacerbated by my Pervasive Developmental Disorder Non-Other Specified (PDDNOS).  This diagnosis was realized about 8 years ago, putting me on the autistic spectrum.  When painting, every brushstroke is calculated and deliberate.  I “need” to paint all of the detail, but there’s too much pain involved.  I want to see all of the detail, but the amount of time it takes is not economical. I am working towards being able to include impressionism in my future works.  I am inspired by the confluence of color, texture and shapes.  Art is meant to isolate subject matter from the rest of life, in order to magnify their importance.

Dubious perceptions “made-up” by the media leave me feeling torn, psychologically.  I live in a constant state of paradoxical awareness. I see things the way they are, how I want them to be, how you want them to be and how society views them...ALL AT ONCE.  I wish I could just stay on my own path without worrying about how it’s going to affect someone else.  I want to accept life’s terms and drop the weight of uncertainty off my back.  Can’t I just be the me that I know?  We all share the human experience, but nobody wants to talk about it.  
I want to talk about it.

It’s hard to describe how being different makes me feel.  I cherish the unique perspective I have on the world, though it changes minute-by-minute.  Consumed by anxiety, pain and depression; I am prevented from maintaining control over my will.  I worry that people think I’m weak, stupid, ugly, rude, selfish, wrong, weird, boring, slow, etc.  It’s quite possible that I think all of these things about myself.  That being said… I KNOW I’m brave, funny, handsome, charismatic, smart, talented, passionate, thoughtful and strong.  In my early teens, I was oblivious to any disabilities.  It wasn’t until my early 20's that I realized my life is much more difficult than my friends’.  Slowly, I am starting to give into the reality that you and I are not the same on the outside but share the struggles on the inside. ​

​​​We all have skin. 

When I see somebody who looks different, I want to inspect them as much as I can.  Clearly, it’s not nice to stare, but WE ALL WANT TO. I wish I could touch them, talk with them, understand them, but it’s too risky.  I might offend them or get stuck having to be overly charitable in my efforts to save face. What if they are clingy?  I don’t know their mental capacity.  How do I to relate to someone who looks so weird???  It’s kind of gross and alien-like. Some may say “This is too hard for me to deal with.” Others might cringe and pray to God that “weirdo” doesn’t look in their direction.