When Bowling Green resident Steven Oliver became co-owner of The Gallery at 916, 916 State St., early this year, one of the first artists whose work he thought about showing in the gallery was 1975 Western alumnus Thomas Pfannerstill.

Oliver and Pfannerstill attended Bowling Green High School together and had been in the art club together. Oliver graduated two years before Pfannerstill in 1968.

“He looks at things different,” Oliver said. “He sees things in 3D and is very philosophical with his work.”

Pfannerstill now lives in Louisville but came to Bowling Green on Wednesday to deliver his art to the gallery.

Other artists often have a distinct style, but finding a theme in Pfannerstill’s art is difficult.

“If I ever get the feeling like I’ve done something before, it gets boring,” Pfannerstill said.

Gallery Co-owner Lynn O’Keefe said she finds his artwork unexplainably interesting.

“You just have to see it for yourself,” she said.

And perhaps, touch it.

One of Pfannerstill’s latest pieces is a flattened red and white box of popcorn which hangs on the wall in the gallery.

To the eye, it’s random trash hanging on the wall, Pfannerstill said. But it’s a carved wooden replica in a style called ‘trompe l’oeil,’ which is a French term meaning ‘trick the eye.’ He said his wife pronounces the word ‘trump doyle.’

“If I ever need a new name, it’ll be Trump Doyle,” Pfannerstill said.

This tricky piece of art is part of a collection he calls “From the Street.”

Pfannerstill said he finds his inspiration from litter on the ground, then dates them to remind himself when he found them. He said he usually wonders about the history of items that he finds marked with tire tracks, fingerprints, black city dirt or country clay dirt. He said they spark his imagination.

In a series of abstract canvas paintings called ‘Blue Paintings,’ Pfannerstill uses bright and dark colors and multiple dimensions. Many of the objects in the paintings represent something, but Pfannerstill said sometimes he isn’t always sure what his paintings are or mean.

“It doesn’t have to be anything at all,” he said. “That’s why it’s art, not wallpaper.”

Swirls and squiggles, irregularly spelled words, splashes of contrasting colors and rectangular, checkered boards seem to float on the deep blue in surprising shades of color.

“Blues, reds, oranges — they literally dance because your eyes can’t focus correctly on them,” Pfannerstill said.

The paintings are snap shots of happenings in the universe, connections into an unknown philosophical view, he said.

Spirals and squares protrude from the edges of the canvas to create shapes.

Pfannerstill said he believes that canvas art shouldn’t have to be contained to the sides of a rectangle. Rather, the art should be placed where it needs to go.

“I hate the constraint of four edges,” he said. “I want to break them.”

Although Pfannerstill said he puts many hours into each piece, he isn’t sad about parting with his art because he likes to move on to other pieces.