One of dozens of Seattle artist Arturo Artorezs drawings on lottery tickets, opening tonight at Vermillion.
  • Courtesy of the artist and Vermillion
  • One of dozens of Seattle artist Arturo Artorez's drawings on lottery tickets, opening next week at Vermillion.

He never won. But Arturo Artorez saved every Washington lottery ticket he ever bought and turned each one into art. In the center square of the tickets, he covered the losing numbers with surreal scenes of animals and people and carnal moments between lovers, all in radiant colors and vibrating patterned lines, reminiscent of the glyphs of Martin Ramirez and the "symbolical visions" of Daniel Johnston.

Drive through this. (By Arturo Arturez.)
  • Drive through this. (By Arturo Artorez.)
Artorez's show of 96 of these drawings, opening tonightOctober 9 at Vermillion, is his second in a handful of months; he was also the subject of a survey at UW this summer. Since 1988, he's been making art on lottery tickets and time cards. He's got quite a life story leading up to moving to Seattle in 1972. Here, he became a guard at Seattle Art Museum to support his artmaking. Lauro Flores authored a catalog about his career, and wrote his early life story:

Arturo Artorez was born [in 1940] and raised in Mexico City, where he also received his formal education. Time and chance put him in Israel in the summer of 1967, at the exact moment when the Six-Day War erupted on June 5, a combat in which he was forced to participate. After such a horrifying and fortunately brief experience, Artorez was put aboard a ship and sent to America, landing first in San Diego, California and then in Tijuana, Baja California. After spending nearly a month there, he returned to Mexico City where he immediately became involved in the student movement and the popular protest that resulted in the fateful Night of Tlatelolco—the massacre on October 2, 1968, when the Mexican army encircled protesters in the Plaza of the Three Cultures and proceeded to kill some 300 persons, according to official estimates, and arrested 1,300 others with Artorez among them.

Dodging death in an almost fantastic if not miraculous fashion, Artorez left Mexico along with some of the other activists when President Salvador Allende offered them asylum and sent two Chilean Air Force planes to transport them. Arturo left for Ecuador almost immediately only to experience the military coup that deposed president Velasco Ibarra and ushered General Rodriguez Lara into power in February of 1972. Once again, the artist escaped the chaos that followed the coup and after some remarkable adventures, returned to Mexico City. Four years later in 1976 he moved to Seattle, where he has lived ever since.

Meet Artorez and see his work tonightOctober 9 [you have time!].