Owens welcomed me into his house. Wait, first, I was staying over at LuLu's and it just so happened that Benjamin Owens lived a few blocks away in a town called Rocky Point. Except I was half way to Port Jefferson before I realized this. It was snowing hard and my tires didn't have tread. I was late. When I found the house his driveway, like everything in Rocky Point, was on a ridiculous slant. After several attempts I could not get my over-revved Japanese import more than an inch up the icy tarmac. Owens came out in his signature ripped up cardigan and instructed me to park in his neighbors driveway. That's what he did. So I slid up besides his ride and sloshed over to his door. I didn't know Benjamin Owens outside of our cordiality at Gallery happenings. All I knew was that he made weird dolls and besides me, he had let only one other person in his most private of spaces, his studio. After feeding me some bagels and introducing me to his dogs Pearl and Ruby it was time to begin.
To View the rest of the Owens Studio visits: