- who happens to go by the name of Lampo, which happens to be Italian for Lightning, which has to be the most most nonsensical piece of naming since Condoleezza Rice. I mean, did Ms Rice's parents enter a competition to see how many double vowels and consonants could be fitted into a name?Be that as it may, Lampo is saved from trauma by his namesake, and I'm free to unburden myself of my accumulated wealth of knowledge of that most mysterious thing called Art.
I know of what I speak on the basis that, thought she won't want to see this fact wafting around the ether, I'm actually on bum-sniffing terms with an artist. I sniff hers. It ain't mutual. Just for the record. Elsewhere in the northern hemisphere, I'm involved in an ongoing war of words with Cosmo whose Kitty Litter, I'm led to believe, is changed by yet another mighty fine artist. Give Katherine a break, Cosmo, try lifting your skanky leg against a tree.
Anyways, between pawing - yes, that's the Dog word for poring - over these two artists' blogs, and my frequent trips to the various Italian churches, museums and art galleries, not to mention my perusal of my tattered copy of Art For Boofheads, I've come to a simple conclusion.
The secret to great Art is in the eyes.
Not the artist's eyes. The eyes of the subject of the painting.
Now, someone once said that it's great Art when the eyes follow you around the room. Pfffft. Pompous undergraduate waffle. The secret to great Art, I'm here to tell you, is when the eyes follow you around the room, out the door, down the street, into the car, home, into the toi-toi, into bed, and into your dreams.
Cupping one oversized paw to one oversized ear, I hear you say, "What if the subject of the painting doesn't have any eyes?"
Simple. It can't be great Art if it ain't got eyes in it.
On which basis, great Art can only feature people. Or animals. Or potatoes.
You read it here first, fellow great Art aficionados.
5 comments:
I know Art. But he follows Barb into all those places.
Dear Boofhead. You've given me much to ponder. Your potatoe (you misspelled it) comment reminded me that I've always wondered about artichokes too. Art-ichokes? There's an "i" in there and you can't miss the art. Eat enough of them and they'll follow you around everywhere. So maybe that should be added? Please elucidate time permitting.
Oh and I linked you from my new Deaf Dog Blog because, well, you're boofy. We love all things boof.
--Stew
(deafmoose.blogspot.com)
Yo Stew. Allow me to chiarire. That's Italian for elucidate. I'm trying to bone up on my Italian. Bone being the operative word. Yum! Love bones! This is my problem, y'see. Anything I type ends up reminding me of food.
Anyways, artichoke includes the letter "i", sure, but they don't actually physically have eyes. Potatoes do have eyes. Or can have eyes. Those little white things that grow out of the potato when it's getting old and soft. Like me, getting old and soft. Only I already have eyes. Somewhere behind all this hair.
Make sense?
I'm going to mosey over and check out deafmoose.blogspot.com, too.
Ciao for now!
Cosmo wanted me to tell you that he did a self-portrait. He's all eyes so it must be great art. He asked me to put it on my blog today - and then said to make sure that I got the title right.
It's right next to where it says "For Dermott"
I'm working on a self-portrait just for you, Cosmo. Don't hold your breath. Running backwards and forwards between the couch on which I'm posing for myself and the easel - well, it takes time.
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