My Visit to THE MUSEUM OF BAD ART or Why My Bad Art Falls Short

http://www.museumofbadart.org/collection/portraiture-1.html

Website of The Museum of Bad Art.

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I learn a lot from reading reviews of paintings. I must say that bad art can teach a great deal about art. I cannot stop visiting MOBA. Lucy, the portrait you will see when you first click on the link is my favorite. Some excerpts of the critiques:

"The motion, the chair, the sway of her breast, the subtle hues of the sky, the expression on her face -- every detail combines to create this transcendent and compelling portrait, every detail cries out "masterpiece...

"What is Norman Mailer's head doing on an innocent grandma's body, and are those crows or F-16's skimming the hills?"

Currently, I am an advanced beginner painter, progressing as an oil painter. I really enjoy painting now. I must say that I create some bad art but nothing approaching the magnificence of "Lucy." How can one artist get all "that" into one painting????

Every piece of art has something interesting to read about its technique and history. Lucy is by far the best for me. My other favorites include:


http://www.museumofbadart.org/collection/portraiture-2.html
Sunday on the Pot With George. It is simply visually "stunning." Enough said.


http://www.museumofbadart.org/collection/portraiture-4.html
Mary Todd Lincoln... "A painting that could have changed the course of the Civil War."


http://www.museumofbadart.org/collection/portraiture-8.html
The Athlete. I have a lot to say about this piece. See... This is a good example of where I get it all wrong. I would have told the guy to take off the white socks and black shoes or simply done a portrait of someone else. (Although there is some controversy about this piece being created to be bad.) You see this style of dress at some of the traditional Highland games too. Full costume but with the black shoes and white socks. Someone had the guts to show it like it really is.

I should have done a portrait of the Italian guy I saw at the last Highland games. (I can only guess he has a wife from the clan.) There are still a lot of unknown factors in modern times. We always wondered what the Italians wore under their kilts. This man was swinging some heavy thing (that I forget the name of) to throw and it kicked up his "skirt." Now we know. Italian men wear blue shorts under their kilts along with the black shoes and white socks. Now that would have been a piece that tells a story.


http://www.museumofbadart.org/collection/portraiture-9.html
Eileen. I like people to see this one because it was actually stolen from the gallery. A reward of $6.50 was offered for Eileen's safe return. This is a record amount for MOBA. Longtime Friend of MOBA, David Robertson, offered to match the curator's reward penny for penny.

http://www.museumofbadart.org/collection/portraiture-10.html
Peter the Kitty. I don't have a lot to say about Peter the Kitty except that you have to see it. Before even reading the critiques, I am laughing too hard to the point of snorting. (I thought I had finally licked snorting by 7th grade.) I think that the model for "Peter the Kitty" must be some sort of reincarnated form of King Henry the Eighth.

Go visit and learn! Remember, we learn from reading the history of "The Athlete" that truly bad art is not supposed to be striven for. It simply happens.

Goodbye Dr. Gonzo, Hunter Thompson Commits Suicide

I was more than surprised to see the Dr. Gonzo tribute on a side bar at a movie site. I had no idea he died. He committed suicide! That is a real shock to me. Some people say I should not be surprised at all. He lived a life full of heavy drugs, alcohol fueled with hard rushes of adrenaline with a lot of help from other substances most people never heard of. This takes him way over any line.


Maybe he has been trying to commit suicide for years and he continued to miraculously survive every writing assignment and book. He is a Rasputin like figure but seems nicer somehow. He was always trying to show us what was wrong with a lot of things rather than actually do wrong. If all those drugs did not kill him (If you read his books, he takes so much stuff all at once on some days, medically, he is long much more than gone.) I hear from certain sources that is true and he has been spoken of as having the constitution of a bull.


Who would have ever guessed he was suicidal? I would like my own compound. He seems to have something to live for. I am sometimes wrong about people and how amazingly well they can hide their sadness. I suppose a compound helps one accomplish this task.


Some critics said his last column story, "Death in the Afternoon," seemed to have an air of prediction of this event about it:


The violent death of Dale Earnhardt hit the sport of professional auto racing harder than anything in memory since the assassination of John Kennedy. People who'd never even watched a NASCAR race were deeply disturbed by it, for reasons they couldn't quite explain. It seemed to send a message, an urgent warning signal that something with a meaning beyond the sum of its parts had gone Wrong & would go Wrong again if something big wasn't cured -- not just in racing, but in the machinery of the American nation. (Excerpt from the link.)


Thompson had a cutting edge in writing that really stripped the meat right off the bone. Here is his, now ironic, obituary of Nixon that did more than bury him:


Richard Nixon is gone now and I am poorer for it. He was the real thing -- a political monster straight out of Grendel and a very dangerous enemy. He could shake your hand and stab you in the back at the same time. He lied to his friends and betrayed the trust of his family. Not even Gerald Ford, the unhappy ex-president who pardoned Nixon and kept him out of prison, was immune to the evil fallout. Ford, who believes strongly in Heaven and Hell, has told more than one of his celebrity golf partners that "I know I will go to hell, because I pardoned Richard Nixon."

I have had my own bloody relationship with Nixon for many years, but I am not worried about it landing me in hell with him. I have already been there with that bastard, and I am a better person for it. Nixon had the unique ability to make his enemies seem honorable, and we developed a keen sense of fraternity. Some of my best friends have hated Nixon all their lives. My mother hates Nixon, my son hates Nixon, I hate Nixon, and this hatred has brought us together. (Excerpt from this link)

(That is a special for all of you who do not like the tradition of sentimentalizing the dead too much.)

So a lot of people say I should not be surprised about this really sad death. Although his talents came through some really hard and unconventional ways, not to mention illegal methods, I am very sorry for the loss of Dr. Hunter Thompson. His works have filled my mind with ponderings, and disbelief that work their way towards amazement. He surprised me again but this is a tragedy in many more ways than one.

Goodbye Hunter S. Thompson. I hope you find your way home to wherever people like you come from.

Fun With Alien Observers or Why We Do That

Are you tired of the same old beanie lined with aluminum foil trick? Get a cat for your home. They are sure to keep the aliens busy with distracting studies. I myself, have never been able to figure out many of their daily rituals. Considering how close we are, that is saying a lot.

Take for instance the garage. If aliens ever study my house, they will never figure out the garage events. I pull up to the garage in my vehicle and pick up a small device and point it at the door. The garage door opens. From there it is never the same. Either a small animal runs into the garage or a small animal runs out of the garage. Even I never know which one it is supposed to be on any given run.

So why? Why do I point a device at a large door that makes a small animal get up and run out or run into the garage? What must the purpose be behind this ritual??? Is a car really necessary for this to occur? They will study other households and find that no small animal is necessary for the garage operation process, adding to the confusion. Apparently some humans simply open the door and pull in, parking the car.

It is perhaps even more confusing when I have two cats. I point, shoot the usual beam and not only might a cat run out, but a different cat would run in at the same time. They seemed to keep it perfectly random whose turn it was to go in or out. Occasionally two cats would run out of the garage or two cats would run in. It is never very synchronized though, even when they are heading in the same direction. One cat may have a day or afternoon off leaving me wondering when the other cat is going to fire out of somewhere. I hesitate to actually pull in on days I open the door and no cats run in or out. If nothing happens, I pull into the garage with some expectation and hesitation keeping my eyes open for any small movement.

Closing the door is fun too. It seems it is also expected for the little cat protectors to run under the door as soon as you activate it to close. This means they interrupt the beam and stop the door from closing. If you have two cats, another one may run in or out on the second attempt again interrupting the door closure. This has a random number of variations leaving me closing the door with cats running in and out any number of times. One time a cat that was not even mine ran out.

Why does this happen? It is my belief that no one will ever figure it out. I feel this will be harder to solve than the riddle of the fire beetles. In any case, this should keep them busy while you figure out why you do the things you do yourself.

A Very Good Day or The Value of Rotten Times

Yesterday I am on the East side of the town I live in. I live on the West side. This particular downtown is in a bowl between the East and West hills. As I drive down the East side hills, I see the most magnificent sunset. The sky is so dramatically streaked with pink, orange, red, deep blue and even turquoise. The clouds are in a different mood from usual in dramatic streaks across the sky. Classical music is playing on my radio and the building rhythms seem to match this great beauty. The orchestra strings are singing with a building type of tension still so sweet and not brooding. I am supposed to make a stop on my way home but skip it. I think I will wait until the next day, choosing instead to continue driving into this beautiful sunset. Now I am at the very bottom of the bowl of the town looking up and the sunset is still going strong.


I drive into the sunset and admire it the entire time. I think I can get home soon enough to capture this on film and show it to someone. I want to share it or I can try to paint it. Somehow, I want to keep this moment and capture this beauty. Somehow... Before I start up the other side of the hills of the West, the sunset is past its peak with its most shining moments now gone in time. The violins break through their tensions on the radio and sing with their final delight and ending. The music could not have been scripted better in a movie. This is the story I am really in, and not simply watching. When I arrive home it is dark and too late to take the photo. The only way I can possibly share my experience is to tell others who have also seen great sunsets and depend upon their own knowing to understand. Today, I settle for some spectacular tango music as I order my coffee from the drive up. Although the weather is a little warmer than usual for this time of year, it just isn't the same as yesterday. "Yo Quiero something something something... ," the man in the great tango song begs. I have no idea what he wants, but I like the sound of it. I receive my coffee and drive off.


So what does it mean to be in all this great music? What makes the agonizing tensions wonderful and so sweet to behold when someone else is singing about it? I roar down the highway in my car screaming along with tunes about love, drugs, dementia and pain. I don't have drugs, dementia and pain, at least not today... Just a coffee if that counts. But someone takes all that and rolls it into some sort of a celebration that I sing along to. It is about life, death, and the cuts received by traveling along the sharp edges. Or it is a song about no love, no death, and barely living? I like the music but it does not really touch upon my ponderings of, "Why." I suppose it just is. Being pushed towards constant evolution isn't easy when I would rather be swimming.


Why don't I have a trust fund? I wonder why all the time. My favorite or least favorite simple question depending upon the day. Just plain why. Why are we here? Why do these things happen? Why do all these things happen to everyone? Where are all the dinosaurs? I am always told that we all have a personal goal in being here. These goals change and interlock with the personal goals of others. That is why our personal goals are also shared goals. My greatest good works with others, and as I change the reflections created in Indra's Net also change. When I make progress towards my greater goals, so do others. My potential becomes greater as do the potentials of others. As I change, I have the opportunity to uplift or drag others down with me if they let me. I am doing soul work in every action I take or do not take.


For some reason I have a great day and all I want to do is continue that great day. If I am in the sun swimming and the weather is nice and people are getting along, that is where I want to be. Then I have my rotten day. That is where life tortures come in. I am anguished, thirsty, and cannot comprehend why these things would happen to a nice kid like me. Confusion rains on my happy parade. I sing hard songs, write, paint, and the poetry pours fourth. Then I sit back on a better day and say, "Criminy. I cannot write like that when I am as happy as a cat on a warm car hood." I do not truly mind though. I simply notice it. Then I realize that my rotten days squeeze something out of me that I would not comprehend on my happy days. I would still rather have happy days all the time and sometimes I try to see if I can get the same ideas as when I am being tortured. I still like what I come up with but the creativity seems to lack those sharp edges and jagged teeth of the other stuff. Phooey. As much as I hate to admit it, those bad days can end up being beautiful opera. Where would strong German opera be if it were not for some really rotten days? What could they be singing about? The woman or man I love really loves me, society always accepts me, and there is no struggle ever and our parents like each other?


The bad days blow in through the window accidentally left open on purpose and then I pay attention again. I try harder and make sure I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. I can't help feeling that somehow I am being squeezed out like a tube of toothpaste towards my destiny despite my semi-retirement. Bad days are occasionally slamming into me telling me to accept change. Accept more light allowing the blockages to open up and through those mental constructs that I believe make me who I am. When I am having a difficult time, I find doing something creative helps. It is a nice reminder that I can still do some things well even when everything else seems to be falling away into change, the unfamiliar, and evolving into something completely new. The adventure unknown so far to me strikes again. Today I had a very good day, and this is all I came up with.

Dark Clouds and the Phoenix, A Dream Analysis

This original dream is analyzed from a post here on AAW. In this instance, the dreamer is always excited to see dark clouds traveling and when he goes to investigate, all sorts of things fly out... These are all different scary things, and sometime he only senses something in the cloud that makes him uneasy. Other times, he has had to battle a great monster. Once he found himself totally engulfed in darkness. Last night was different however. He had a parrot on his shoulder whose feathers glowed orange like a Phoenix.

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A recurring dream means that the mind is working on a problem or trying to tell the dreamer something important. The mind will communicate this over and over again, until the dreamer get the message. The thing to look for is what makes a dream get stuck. Often the dreams feel unfinished. The dreams often are ending with the dreamer refusing to open their eyes or falling into the same trap they always fall into. Sometimes the dreams are not finished since the person wakes up screaming.

For this dreamer the sticking point seems to be the clouds. He never is able to get beyond the clouds without extreme incidents. Something always flies out of those exciting dark clouds and he never knows what it is going to be. However, there is some sign in the most current dream of breaking out of the usual pattern. The parrot that suddenly emits a bright orange glow in the dream is mentioned by the dreamer as appearing like a symbol of the Phoenix, or at least a Phoenix like bird representing great and unexpected change. It is important for the dreamer to catch that vibration of change. I find dreams easiest to look at when you determine what Zone the person is in.

A dream can be in:

Zone 1 Physical

Zone 2 Emotional

Zone 3 Mental

Zone 4 Causal

All these levels have value. It is an error to value one state more than the other, since they all have something to show each of us. There are actually a lot of ways to break dreams up into levels, but I find this to be the easiest one to explain. The levels are not actually physical, with some sort of shell or gate between them. They are a progression based on the balance and ability of the person experiencing them. I believe this dream is in the Emotional Zone and working its way up to Mental. Flying is often a symbol of the Mental Zone working towards Causal. However in this case the dreamer always encounters clouds and never seems to know what creature is hidden and going to fly out of there. This is difficulty getting through the Emotional Zones and traveling through to the Mental Zone. This dream indicates the dreamer is on the boarder and really trying or wanting to do this, however.

The Lower Emotional Zone is the dark world full of monsters and out-of-balance beings. This is evidenced here by the creatures attacking out of the clouds. It is not always easy to make a smooth transition past this place and all these interesting creatures. And they are interesting, because they BELONG TO THE DREAMER! As in practicing magic, meditation (which can help train in balance), or even walking well through life, it is important to remain balanced and centered. The dreamer needs to remain calm and serene as they do not rush past these areas. This goes for entering the dream or when the dreamer is returning to their usual physical state of being awake. Once a negative emotion flies up, even at something unknown that may be in a fluffy cloud, this is attracting or creating negative attention and energy. The energies of dreams respond in kind. Our mind makes a picture for us to see when we fly out of control with our emotions. In dreams these can be little red eyed bats with bad vibrations. All sorts of scary things go whizzing by when we lose control of our emotions. These clouds of the dreamer may represent the unexpected emotions held. The dreamer never knows what form they will take. The dreamer knows they are there, senses them, but they fly out in all different forms.

The dreamer also has the key to the dream: The Phoenix! This is a transformation of the most dramatic kind! The dreamer can catch onto this great vibration and create a new person more like what they wish to be. It will seem as if the old self was something else if this is accomplished. The dreamer may find themselves (naturally) flying high, well balanced, and perhaps into the Causal realm which can be very beautiful.

This dream represents great opportunity. The dreamer needs to practice balance in all realms. "As above, so below." The actions in one reality, can reflect on well being in another. Using all the realities available to their advantage, will mirror into all places that can be traveled in any fashion. In saying this, I am also saying that anyone can use their actions in waking life in order to resolve the dream.

Some possible actions for this unresolved dream:

Mentally finishing the dream with visualizations while awake. I would recommend peaceful and happy finishes. For instance, flying past the clouds with the bats as friends and seeing a new world. Sort of like pet sky cat escorts. (Maybe they are really Pokemans. )

Taking actions in life to learn balance, centering, and control. Meditation is a good idea. This person seems to like mythology a lot. Remember the way the person enters the adventure affects the energies that they will encounter. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT.

The dreamer may wish to keep a dream diary and write down important dreams. That way small areas of improvement can be noted really paying attention to hidden meanings. Put in all the imagery that can be recalled. A small change in imagery is important in a recurring dream. It is all a good hint about what is being communicated. Often times, people resolve the dream meaning just by writing about it.

Best wishes for happy dreaming.