In 2007, early in my filmmaking career, I found myself working for a website called jack9.com. It was one of those places that, looking back, you can't quite believe existed. The owner, a madman with a penchant for dubious business practices, had swindled an older gentleman into investing five million dollars by taking him to the Playboy Mansion and surrounding him with young, attractive women. The entire operation was a facade, bolstered by a computer farm in Colorado generating fake traffic. I have a thousand stories from that time, each more outrageous than the last, but this one starts with an unexpected meeting.

One day, the owner, in his infinite wisdom, gathered us editors and announced, "You have two weeks to create your own shows with our equipment. The best stay, the rest get the boot."

Being an artist, I saw a golden opportunity. Why not make a show about artists and galleries? Not only could I meet the creators I admired, but also the gatekeepers of the art world, the gallery owners. And so, my Trojan horse was born: "Analog Color.”

My first episode was on Kozyndan at Giant Robot in West LA. As I filmed the crowd outside the show, I spotted an artist whose work I adored. "Are you Tessar Lo?" I asked, hoping I wasn't about to embarrass myself. He smiled and said, "Yes," and I immediately launched into my pitch about my documentary show. Tessar had just graduated from Sheridan College in Toronto and was preparing for his first solo show in Los Angeles. I had stumbled upon his blog a year earlier and was captivated by his unique style.

I asked if I could do an episode on him. He said he needed to check with the gallery owner and suggested we grab lunch to discuss it further. A few days later, we met for lunch, and slowly a friendship began to take shape. Tessar was incredibly welcoming, making me feel at ease in his world. We visited the gallery, and he introduced me to the owner, who has remained a close friend to this day.

Over the next few weeks, I filmed Tessar finishing paintings for his show, installing them in the gallery, and finally, the opening night. I was floored by his work ethic and natural talent. We spent many hours talking shit, laughing, and romanticizing the role of “the artist.” That was 16 years ago. Although we don't see each other often, I consider him a great friend and one of the most talented people I have ever met.

Since those early days, Tessar Lo’s career has soared to remarkable heights. His work is now featured in prestigious museums such as the Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles, the Art Gallery of Ontario, and the Gardiner Museum. His unique blend of collage, abstraction, surrealism, and emotional depth has captivated audiences worldwide, earning him exhibitions in Amsterdam, Barcelona, Hong Kong, Paris, Tokyo, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Miami, New York, Seattle, and Philadelphia. Tessar's pieces are not just viewed; they are experienced, inviting the viewer into an intimate dance of ideas and emotion.

Tessar's art defies simple categorization. He weaves elements of personal mythology, dreamscapes, and fragments of everyday life into his work, creating a tapestry that feels both familiar and otherworldly. His use of vibrant colors and intuitive markings draws you in, while the underlying themes of identity, memory, and transformation provoke deeper reflection.

In addition to his exhibitions, Tessar has also embraced the role of educator, returning to his alma mater, Sheridan College, to teach the next generation of artists. His classes are renowned for their rigor and inspiration, with a deep exploration of personal and artistic identity.

His work continues to evolve, pushing the boundaries of contemporary art and inspiring all who encounter it. Tessar Lo’s journey is a testament to the power of dedication, creativity, and the courage to pursue one’s artistic vision. From our serendipitous meeting in Los Angeles to watching him achieve international acclaim, Tessar has shown that true artistry knows no bounds.

Oh, remember that fateful jack9 meeting where we had to present our shows: the owner took one look at mine and sneered, "Pretentious. Boring”. I was devastated. I had spent so much time driving from Carlsbad to LA, filming the episode, and many late nights in front of the computer editing what I thought was the greatest thing I’d ever made. But after all, this was my first attempt at documentaries, so maybe he was right. Maybe I had no vision. The rest of the editors thought it was good. But what do they know?

And then the next day, the owner, who had barely said two words to me since I started over nine months ago, sits down next to me in my crappy cubicle and says, “I looked up analogcolor.com, and it seems someone has bought it.” I sheepishly admitted that was me and tried to change the subject. He interrupts me to tell me that his 19-year-old stripper girlfriend, who has a prominent knife scar slashed across her face, nonetheless, watched my episode. Three times! If his young hip girlfriend liked it, then, well, he liked it. My show was saved. He would allow me to make as many episodes as I wanted with no interference. I made a many more over the following months. Then the global economic collapse of 2008 hit, and jack9.com was no more. I walked away with six episodes of my show and a free education in documentary filmmaking.

Life is funny that way. One moment you’re in a cubicle, wondering if you have any talent at all, and the next, you’re filming an artist like Tessar Lo and realizing you might just be onto something. Fast forward 16 years, I work in the documentary field and my admiration for Tessar's work has only deepened. So, here’s to unexpected meetings, to friends who make the journey worthwhile — because, in the end, it's the twists and turns that make the story worth telling.—Jeremy Asher Lynch