I t’s hard to keep up with artist James B. Hunt, otherwise known as NXOEED. Longtime Valley residents have probably seen his work multiple times, even if they didn’t recognize the strange conglomeration of letters, that according to Hunt, is not meant to be pronounced. It simply is what it is: NXOEED. On a warm February day, we biked through the streets of central Phoenix headed toward Roosevelt Row to hide some original art Hunt had recently created. It was difficult to match his steady but brisk pace, but when you ride every- where on bicycle, you get good at it, and this is just one of many things, like his art, that makes Hunt instantly memorable. This is, of course, much to his chagrin. More importantly, though, Hunt has always known he would be an artist. “Even at 5 years old, I was always drawing. Just drawing and drawing and drawing. I never really considered doing anything else with my life. I was always down to just ruin my life with this shit,” Hunt says without a hint of sarcasm. Hunt’s unique art is instantly recogniz- able. There’s a fascinating allure to his bold yet flowing approach to drawing and painting that disarms the eye and allows what would normally be scary or shocking to be inviting and warm. The now 51-year-old has lived in Phoenix for over 40 years, and he knows the city streets like the back of his hand. On that day in February, we weren’t far from where it all began. Hunt’s been hiding his art off and on since 1997, when he first did it to help promote a show he had at Alwun House on Roosevelt and 12th streets. As we head toward our first stop, which is just across the street from what used to be The Lost Leaf on 5th Street, there’s a broad smile on his face. It’s clear that he’s doing what he loves to do, but there’s also something else there, too. A mission, perhaps, and a sense of oncoming relief. “Sometimes when I’m feeling down, the only thing that gets me out of a funk is to be able to hide two or three things here and there. Knowing that it’s hidden feels good,” says Hunt. To the observer, Hunt did not seem to be in a “funk” when we met in February. He seemed excited and ready to go for a ride. Even though he’s tall, a bit stocky and typically dressed in all black, including a worn black cap that would look right on a cigar-chomping tugboat captain, he’s not the least bit imposing. There’s a charming twinkle in his eye and when he talks, you can’t help but listen. Hunt is eloquent and easily one of the most creative users of profanity you’ll ever come across. He’s also deferential in nature, and his swearing is almost always used to enhance his inclination for self- deprecation. Like many artists, he is a natural observer and doesn’t seem to miss anything. It’s probably why he loves riding around town on his bike. “There’s a lot of freedom in having a bicycle. You can effortlessly go through the back streets. I don’t need to worry about parking. It’s almost like a little piece of youth has stuck with me, like I have this piece of 1985 with me all the time and I’m a kid on a bike,” says Hunt. Why Phoenix artist NXOEED wants you to see his creations — not him. BY TOM REARDON Artwork by NXOEED >> p 16
