Tag Archives: painting

“Art cannot be paraphrased.”

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Okay, so Just lie there. yeah. sprawl out like that.

But I’m hungry.

Uh, here. Have these grapes, and just tilt your head back and slowly dip them into your mouth.

Why can’t I eat them normally?

Because this is art. We have to capture the essence of what it means to eat grapes.

Can’t you just hang some grapes up and then paint me in later. My arm’s getting tired and I’m going to have a sore neck in the morning.

It is essential that you hold them… for the uniformity of the piece.

I still don’t get why I have to be naked. I’m getting cold.

You’re not naked, you’re expressing the vulnerability of mankind.

Then why can’t you just get a naked man?

No! I mean–it wouldn’t be the same. For this particular work of art I need a young female in full bloom; otherwise it won’t work.

You haven’t even set up the canvass yet.

I’m getting there! I told you, I need to visualize. You know… art. Just, just eat the grapes and let me work — slowly.

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Life’s a Birch

I was sitting in an office waiting. There was a painting of a forest of birch trees on the wall.

I noticed that birch trees always have so many knots on their trunk, like they’re falling apart and losing branches right and left. Either it’s bad construction, or they’re the laziest trees ever and simply get tired of holding their branches up. If I was a bird I would only build a nest in a birch tree if I was pinched for cash and needed a place to stay. Even the bark has given up and started turning itself into paper. It’s like birch trees don’t really know what they want to do with themselves. What’s the point of being a tree anyways? Yeah, I get it, you’re supposed to grow and get tall… but why? Is there an optimal height that all trees are trying to reach? Because the taller you get, the easier it seems to snap in half in the middle of a storm, or lose your roots in a flood. Why not reach a modest, respectable height, and stop? Are you really going to benefit from being taller if you just keep dropping branches along the way? They are what built you up in the first place, so how do you think that makes them feel? You sacrifice what you consider to be dead weight just so you can sprout a few more leaves closer to the sun.

What I liked about this painting is that it didn’t show the tops of the trees. It only showed the trunks and the forest floor. All the branches were gone, but everyone could see the knots, the scars left on the trees.

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