Mostly Dumb

Mostly dumb as in silent.

A pair of “seens” side-by-side. A pair of pairs, or trios? Two artists to the left and two art objects on the right. Magic realism? Where the uncanny is observed as if it were merely canny. Can a penis draw; can a painting be a date? Don’t think so.

Deaf lust gets our sculptor-king into doing things without thinking of the consequences; he opens the curtain to see without knowing — or caring —  that he can be seen as well. If he could only hear the laughter – the disgust and fear made real or the calls to 9-1-1.

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Then there’s the “double date”; our artist and his work at a table for two.

The maitre d’ asks, “How many?”

“Two”

“Name?”

“Pygmalion”

Those crazy Greeks. Minor deity, Galatea is first with Acis, her shepherd boy. Then she’s with Pygmalion, the sculptor-king (Bildnergott?). The boy was killed then made immortal to be with her. After that she is made mortal for the sculptor. Acis has got to be pissed, imagine being immortal AND angry. Hopefully, for Pygmalion’s sake, Odysseus got to Polyphemus in the interim.

Memories and fantasies made concrete but hardly real — they never let their myth run full course. Made as art, memories of the badly broken and fantasies of the repaired.

 

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A technical note.

This is a cross-hatchy sketch done totally in Photoshop with the Wacom Intuos 2 just to see if:  

A – I could do it like in the old days with a Speedball C-6, ink on paper and…

 B – How it would look posted. The detail is actual size.

 

What do you think?  That’s a joke, I know you don’t exist.

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