My Artistic Digression

AND AN OVERDUE CONFESSION

It’s Been Awhile Since I’ve Picked Up An Artist’s Paint Brush … 

Splattered Acrylic On Canvas.

“My Last Painting – The One That Didn’t Make It To The Louvre Museum In Paris – Was A Cartoonish Cactus In A Desert Panorama …”

… Azul Sky.  Pink Sand.  Green, Prickly Plant … Um, A Pickle With Thorns.

 

A BEAUTIFUL MESS?

No, It Was Simply Horrible – An Abomination Of Color, Perspective And Creative Ambition Gone Terribly Wrong – I Owe Mr. Grumbacher An Apology.

“The Poor Canvas: Stretched Over A Pine-Slivered Frame Like A Cruel, Medieval Torture Rack … For What?  Those Acrylics Were Better Off Staying In The Tube.  Drying Up In Limbo.”

Pickled Cactus In Pink Sand … Hung On A Plain White Wall Over The Stereo (Cassette Deck) In My First Apartment.

I Liked Pickled A Little Too Much.  More Than A Heart Had A Right To Love Something So Appallingly Dreadful.  But, That’s One Kind Of Love For Us Hopeless Romantics, Talent-Neutral Darlings Of Delusion.

 

ITS BEEN 15 MONTHS

Since I Last Stepped My Carcass In Sight Of A Proper Art Exhibit … 

The Thompson Landry Gallery In Toronto’s Historic Distillery District.  

“Two Canadian Artists (From Montreal) – Bao Pham And Boudro – Literally Popped Me In The Eyes With Their Work.”

Pop Culture.  Graffiti.  Street Art.

 

EXPRESSION MATTERS

Wow.  Whimsy.  Bold.

I Could Live In Their Paintings.  I Was “Damn, Fanboy” Smitten.  I Don’t Get Smitten By Inanimate Objects.

Want Was Tempting Me.  Flirting.  To Take Every Piece Home.

“Reality Knocked On My Head … Cha-Ching’d Me Awake: I’d Have To Sell A Usable Body Part For The Cash, And Well, That Little Ploy Didn’t Work Out So Wonderfully The First Time I Tried To Pawn One Of My Left Feet To Pay For Tango Lessons.”

 

I’M NOT AN ART CRITIC

I’m Not Especially Fond Of Critics Of Anything …  

Yet, I’m Ocassionally Critical Of Nearly Everything, Except Films, Food, Cars And Newborns.  Fauna And Flora, Too.  Ancestry DNA Suggests It Has Something To Do With My Inferior Genetics.  Miserable Genomes.  Or It’s Anecdotal, Hypothetically Speaking.

“Irony Or Hypocrisy?”

Annoying Either Way.  Like Mambo No 5.

 

I WAS ONCE ASKED POLITELY

To Exit An Art Program Way, Way Back In The Day …

I Was 15 Years-Old And One Of A Couple Dozen Students Lucky Enough To Have Been Accepted.  An Earned Privilege.  But, Also Worthy, Respectfully.

“Seems I Was Not Entirely Committed To The Craft Two Years Into It.  There Was Irrefutable Evidence To Support The Claim.”

Being In Sole Possession Of A Non-Adjustable Attitude Suggested I Was The Singular Detriment Responsible For Kyboshing A Maybe-ish, Maybe-ish Not Promising Career Doing Something Gifted By God.  So, Yeah, That Exalted Height Of Screw Up Came To Me In My Mid-Teens.

 

THEN THERE WAS THE TIME

I Thought I’d Become An Architect … 

I Was Almost Almost On My Way.  Sort Of.  I Mean, The University Of British Columbia Said,

“Fine, We’d Love To Have You.  See You In September.” 

I Don’t Remember The Exact Verbiage In The Acceptance Letter.

 

BOHEMIAN IN BAD COMPANY

And, Of Course, That August Came And Went Poof.  I Never Left For The West Coast.  I Was Too Bothered Being A Bohemian.

It Wouldn’t Be The Last Time I Made A Shitty Decision Over A Woman (Blondezilla 1.0) – But, That’s All On Me – Happy Now?

The Curious Events Of 1986 Found Inclusion In Chapter 9 Of My Unpublishable Manuscript, Entitled:

Kuched Up: A How-To-Fable Of Unfathomable Life Regrets, Urban Male Foolery And Boom-Shacka-Lacka Dance Hall Moves.  The Late Early Years (1983-1988)

 

COUPLE WEEKS AGO

Due (Dewey), The Youngest Legally Ripened Fruit-Of-My-Pretty-Loins – Offspring, Non-Prodigal Son, Millennial Prodigy? – Was Accepted Into A University Art Program.

Cool Leo.  Happy Dad.  Coolio.

I’m Hopeful Due Will Be Pleased With His Faja’s Recent Passive Ambition To Once Again Dribble Paint Over A Gesso-Primed Canvas.

“Father Inspired By Son.  So, How Cool Is That?”  

 

Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay

21 thoughts on “My Artistic Digression

  1. Jim Borden

    so cool that you passed on the art gene, I wish your son the best.

    I never enjoyed art class, and today I am jealous of people who can draw or do anything artistic. However, I still don’t get most art. And a trip to an art museum is usually not my idea of fun…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. LaShawn Uchenna Ani

    I’m Not Especially Fond Of Critics Of Anything ..so I would definitely say it’s my hypocritical thought process 😂 …congratulations to your son, that’s a huge accomplishment to many more to cone. You should be proud, job well done ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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