Nothing like walking to work and seeing saggy people having sex on a bed.

I like to think myself unshockable. It takes a lot to shock me. It takes a lot to make me uncomfortable. It takes a lot for me to do a double-take when seeing something odd.

Generally the shockable interests me...to a certain extent, but I guess that's best left for another post.

Our building houses a small art gallery of modern sculpture. They change the exhibits every couple of months, usually it happens over a few days, so those that come and go every day aren't too surprised at the artwork being displayed.

As I previously mentioned, I worked from home two days in a row, and left early Tuesday to volunteer, so I didn't see what new art was being moved in, but I did notice they were moving things around to make room for a new exhibit.

Yesterday I was walking up the alleyway to make a hard right and continue to the outside courtyard area to wait for my husband to come downstairs so we could get our Friday Starbucks treat. The art gallery is on the right, so as I closed in on the corner of the building, I noticed a bed in the gallery. Then I noticed two rather saggy looking human figures above the bed, hanging from hooks, who were in the act known as "getting it on."

"Oh, that's lovely," I said. To no one. But it had to be said. It jarred me as much as walking up the same alleyway to find a homeless man peeing into a planter jarred me.

I continued to the doors to the building and a few minutes later, my husband walked outside.

"Lovely sculptures," I said.

He looked at me and said, "What?"

"At the art gallery? The saggy people having sex on the bed?"

"Oh yeah, I know," he replied.

We went on the discuss the, um, uniqueness, of the exhibit.

Later on that day when we left to go get sandwiches we noticed the previously saggy people hanging from hooks were now halfway inflated. The men were sporting erections, the women had perky boobs. All of them had expressionless faces.

It was just creepy.

When we got back from getting the sandwiches, the previously half-filled people were now fully filled. The two at the bed were nice and plump, the man in position to do his thang.

I'm not a prude, but come on. It's just a tad weird to have people hanging from hooks in the middle of an act that most of us like to do privately. But then, even the ones just sitting there were creepy.

For your viewing pleasure, here is a picture from another exhibit by the artist.




















I don't know what I'd rather walk by day after day, the meat hook people or the giant scupture of a woman's vulva that was displayed a couple years back.

Etch-a-Sketch

My wonderful, always well-intentioned mother sent me a link to an online Etch-a-Sketch without realizing my deep hatred towards the "toy" (loosely called in my book).

Oh sure, you can make tons of fabulous things like box after box after box, unless you're one of these dexterous people with a lot of free time on their hands:







and then you're making fabulous works of art -- somehow. (I think you're all wizards and warlocks and witches and demons!)

We had etch-a-sketches as a child, and I quickly realized how inapt I was at making anything more than a horizon, a box, and maybe a stick figure. And lots and lots of boxes and lines and more boxes, and when I got really frustrated, many squiggles.

Now, as an adult, this is the most I can do, and I really really tried:




I even saved it the the etchy gallery, and I've deemed this fabulous piece of artwork as "House on the abstract." As you can clearly see, there is a tree, a house with an open window (or a tank with a machine gun poking out an open window we all can't see) and what looks to be like some animal with a broken tail. Based on the demensions of the objects in my fabulous artwork, the animal with the broken tail is huge, and could possibly be a dinosaur recently back from a tussle with a raptor.

Give me a lite brite any day or one of those Wooly Willy magnetic face toys.

(Side note: When did they start making lite brites on "flat screens"? Oh, I am so old.)

Thanks, Mom. Thanks for making me realize what a horrible etch-a-sketch artist I am.

For those of you who like online art things that require no talent whatsoever, visit the Jackson Pollock web site to create your own paint splattered art or play with the Mr. Picasso Head.

Butterfly.

Another illustration - simple butterfly.

I like to do drawings.

I'm creating my online portfolio. These are some of the things I drew today using Adobe Illustrator. My mom says to use color in the full illustration, my husband didn't care for it at all. I, for one, love that I'm finally doing something the way I want to do it without constantly worrying if so and so will like it.

My only problem is figuring out how to create my portfolio with all the whizbangy dealy-bobs I want. Flash is a tricky thing, I tell you. But mighty powerful.

bee

flower in grass

Artist I'm really excited about!

We all went to the SJ Museum yesterday so Mateo would have new things to look at and for Mom and Dad to get out of the house with Mateo to a place that wasn't a store for the first time in who knows how long. The museum was featuring Camille Rose Garcia, an absolutely stunning and fabulous artist who creates pop art based on her views of the world. I'm completely intrigued by her, and I've already told my husband to save up 1200 bucks so he can buy me a set of three prints that I love called Subterranean Orphans:

She also makes dolls and has a few books, one of which I'm going to buy for Mateo as it's a children's book albeit a bit spooky and creepy (okay, it's more for me than for him).