I was Going to be upset with Big Box Mart but...

 

So this image right here was going to start of a rant about art history. It was going to be a good rant  too about how the watering down of our collective culture was eroding away at the foundations of civilization and how critical thinking for visual images should be taught in high school and blah blah blah. Whatever.

That all went out the window when I went mucking about the internet for a copy of Roy Lichtenstein's original work for you to compare it to and found out that the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation is about as uptight as the recording industry (citation!)

The short of it is that Lichtenstein did big ol' oils and acrylic paintings of panels from comic strips that he didn't originally draw and sold them as his own. It was a whole movement in the art world with critical thinkin' and making statements and everything. Go read an art history book if you really want  to understand why this is a completely acceptable idea, it was the point of my original article anyways. (Here. Here's a freebie.)

Now what I'm having problems wrapping my brain around is that the people managing his estate get all upset when someone else makes a derivative work from the same original image. Of course they look alike, it's the same source material. If I paint a Campbell Soup can it's going to look an awful lot like what Warhol did because it's the same freakin' can.

I just don't see where they think they have a leg to stand on when, if you take away all the philosophy from Lichtenstein's work you end up with someone who pretty blatantly ripped off another artist. 

Grawrargraphrear. I have to go before my sputtering shorts out my keyboard.

Oh, and here is one more link so you can compare what Big Box Mart has in their mass produced home decor vs what they are obviously imitating: Bah! Internets.

Tomorrow I promise pictures from my trip to Duluth. No more crazy artist talk (for awhile at least).

At 12

Tonight I realized something that would make my 12-year old self stick her fingers in her ears and scream "LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR" loud enough to be heard the next state over. My mother doesn't even know what I'm about to say and I can already hear the smugness of her thoughts from 500 miles away.

I didn't have enough chores when I was little.

The thing is, you see, I am still trying to figure out how to effectively run a household by myself. While even at a young age I was aware that vacuuming didn't magically happen, building the habit of doing it regularly myself has been challenging. That along with doing the dishes, sweeping, mopping, cleaning the bathroom, timing a meal so that all the elements finish cooking a)when I get hungry and b) at the same time, keeping a grocery list, grocery shopping and heck, even remembering to take the trash out weekly.

I've been living on my own for roughly 3 years now and I still don't have the hang of it. Dishes still pile up in the sink for an unacceptable amount of time. It's not that I don't know how to do these things, its more that I never really learned time management like I probably should have when I was in high school. I still don't have the self discipline to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and I wonder if I ever will.

One thing is for sure, life will be heck for my children should I ever have any.

Friday Night

I find stuff. I find a lot of stuff. Sometimes people ask me how I find such interesting things. Sometimes it's a shiny yellow action figure, sometimes it's a television show featuring a strong black female central character, sometimes it's the movies I pick to watch, or a random bit of information I happen to know. Inevitable, everyone I know asks how I do that.

I usually answer I don't know.

Tonight I bothered to figure it out. It's not that I'm good at finding stuff, or even better than average at it, it's because I am thoughtful and precise about what I share with other people. If it's not that interesting to me, I don't think it will be that interesting to someone else. If the person I'm talking to is a cat person I don't share tips on how to train a dog.

It turns out being good at something is not always in the doing, but sometimes in the editing.

That being said, I thought I'd share this video. I'll warn you though, it's no double rainbow!

This is a link. Click on it. But not if you have dial-up.

Wagons *slightly* West!

I'm leaving tomorrow for a weekend in Duluth, MN with my favorite midget goldfish. I'm sensing many roadside attractions in my future.

It's a shorter trip than to Grand Rapids, even though it's two states over. In realizing this, it makes future trips more likely. It also puts in my head ideas for kidnapping both my Duluth and Grand Rapids connections for a reunion of epic proportions.

I was thinking tonight that if my life had a start-over button, I would make it my goal to be a female professional wrestler. Not the Olympic competitor kind mind you, but the cheesy WWF kind. When I was a kid, it never occurred to me that women could be "pro" wrestlers. I remember we all used to get together at a friends house and watch Hulk Hogan on the WWF and then play kickball when I was growing up. I was totally attracted to the glitz, glam and stunts.

Too late for those gymnastic lessons now. Guess I'll just have to focus on being a successful artist, and enjoy one of the most unique and well-written comics about female wrestling on the web. I regret nothing!

I am a total fan of Sun. In case you wondered. Which you probably didn't, but now you know anyways!

Ow.

I didn't really trip so much as roll my ankle when I was bounding down the stairs earlier this evening. It hasn't started hurting from that yet, but from the crunching sound, I'm sure it will by morning.

In other news:

 

Who wants a postcard with artwork by yours truly? Hit my e-mail with your mailing address and you too could be the owner of a shiny new postcard with a location to send delicious cookies (aka my mailing address).

mintyandee[at]gmail[dot]com

On My Way Home from the Market

I don't know what this structure is/was, and now it's in the middle of nowhere advertising things that don't exist.

I am so very tired right now. All the fraking time. It doesn't matter how much sleep I get, there seem to be just some periods of my existence where I can't escape this fatigued state. It was practically impossible getting up this morning to make my Noon appointment with the eye doctor. Seriously ridiculous. Everything has to start with a mini-argument in my head between the part of myself who wants to accomplish things and be a productive member of society and the other that just wants to go back to sleep. It's a lot less that I have a good conscience and a bad conscience and much more like Goofus and Gallent are living in my head.

Anyways, after the appointment, I did my grocery shopping and was headed home when another argument started:

Gallent: The light today is great, the fall colors are peaking and the sky is clear. We should stop and take some reference pictures for that painting series we want to do.
Goofus: I want to go to bed. And eat cake. Possibly at the same time.
Gallent: But we don't have any pictures of old buildings in the fall! Everything we have is late summer. If we wait much longer we will have to wait for next year!
Goofus: Cake. Sleep. Not necessarily in that order.

As you can probably tell, Gallent won. Poor Goofus doesn't have much of a track record unless I'm already at home. Which is why not a lot of chores get done. Ech.

Anyways, on with the photos!

A Glass Through Which to View Things

See what I found on my way home today? Everything I need to make my 3rd glass through which to view things! And someone's American Red Cross Disaster Relief certification card. Maybe your car visor is not the best of places to keep your important documents mmm?

This glass will be specialer than the other glasses because I am actually going to take the time to sterilize everything before I assemble it. Not clean mind you, that would ruin the aesthetic of it. Although I am excited because this is the first time I have found a colored glass to work with. The other two were done with clear glasses.

Also, counter-intuitively, my spell check has decided that "specialer" is a word. Wait...wait...so does the dictionary. Huh.

Trip To Grand Rapids

So Stephanie and I set out on a grand adventure that began on Friday, September 24th. Stephanie had mentioned that she wanted to go to Grand Rapids for the Art Prize competition and asked me to come along. Originally, the group was larger and we were going to take the bus, but then it dwindled down to the two of us and we were going to take my Mercury Mystique, Feminine. However, Feminine started acting up so after a flurry of phone calls, an estimate on a rental car and some more phone calls, we ended up taking The Bus. It was a whirlwind 3 day trip, and we ended up driving all 3 days, sleeping one night on The Bus and one night on a fold-out couch.

Least Awkward Picture I took of Stephanie that night

The Bus is not a bad place to sleep, somewhere between a camper and a tent. Not as wet as a tent, but not quite as comfy as a camper. Although way better than a car. As far as sleeping. Riding in it for three days, there was enough vibration to turn my joints to jelly. Also, you realize how loud it is when you're going down  the highway at a blistering 55mph. There were a lot of firsts for The Bus this trip. First time it was slept in, first time Stephanie rode in her bus and first time I drove The Bus. I would do it again, but it does not rate first on the list of vehicles I have driven as far as the driving experience. Although I did spend an incalculable amount of time grinning from ear to ear and shouting  "I'm a bus driver!" over the engine. I do recommend everyone try driving The Bus at least once (provided Stephanie lets you and you have your driver's license...)

I'm Baaaack!

Or there really. I've got everything I own in Laurium at least. Soon I will have everything I own where I know where it is. Maybe.

I've also decided to move e-mail addresses while I was at it, you can now reach me at:
mintyandee[at]gmail[dot]com

I'm off to find my sanity. I'm pretty sure it's in a box around here somewhere.