Fritz, the person and his work, which includes paintings and raku-fired ceramics, possess a gentleman’s hipness: current, fun and mature. In most pieces, Fritz calls on illustrative images from children’s books enjoyed by the baby boomers: cute chicks, fuzzy bunnies, and round, bright little boys and girls all presented in pop-art glossiness. Most compelling are his paintings, in which a Henry Darger-esque boy or girl stands grand at center stage, surrounded by a variety of randomly placed images, symbols and words. On an immediate, literal level we experience the predictable, warm feelings of nostalgia, carefree playfulness, the fantasy of childhood. But once our vision gets past Fritz’s happy primary colors, we see the swirl of the nuclear symbol, a burning house, an open pair of scissors. A disharmony strikes the innocence; the giant children take on a sinister tone. Look beyond the surface to the many underlying layers which tell a history of the work; memories layered over a lifetime.

Note, too, that the central character is transparent, as is intended.

"Transparency is the philosophical state of being able to let things pass through you," says Fritz, "instead of retaining them and becoming heavy, weighted down with experience." Ironically, this transparency is the very thing that gives these pieces weight; it is also one of the primary elements that makes them so intriguing beyond their initial allure. Each layer of painted out, painted over images is locked in, inescapable, and just visible enough not to be forgotten-we are never free of our past, but it is the primary element that gives us character, if it doesn’t kill us first. Such is the juxtaposition in Fritz’s work: It is both jovial and foreboding, literal and symbolic, transparent and weighty, just as the artist intended, suggesting life itself.

Spencer’s works possess an outsider art quality; more raw and personal than formal. Perhaps this is because there is little separation between Spencer’s own story and her work. Her life and location-the small Northern California coastal town of Bolinas-inform her art completely and directly. The objects rendered-with watercolor, gouache, colored pencil and more, often-times on thick, earthy paper-are culled from her immediate surroundings: her now-grown sons’ toys and games ("I miss them. This is a way to connect again," Spencer said), rusty hinges from her backyard, antique license plates gathered from around Bolinas, and more; it’s all coveted by Spencer who lovingly refers to it as "Junk." "I like junk," Spencer said. I’m a bit of a magpie that way. I like junk drawers. I like what you find in your pockets at the end of the day." The works of greatest interest are those in which she displays her images/objects, one after another, in a grid-like formation. Flea Market presents copious objects in this fashion, sometimes humorously or oddly juxtaposed against each other. It’s a treasure to explore. Step away and the entire work resonates graphically and tonally; an entire life vibrating to an almost obsessive pitch. Everything is displayed at once depicting, it feels, a moment that is fleeting. "This comes from not being able to do this for such a long time," explained Spencer, who didn’t start creating until her sons were away at college. "I’m afraid it’s going to be taken away. Every moment is so precious." And so are her works, filled with precious memories. They are symphonic in their entirety and even more fun to take on piece by piece.