Yesterday I read an article about how they are incorporating x-ray scan system to reveal what is underneath of old paintings. Essentially, with these types of “reveals,” art sellers are looking for stories, which would make already an expensive painting by a dead artist even more expensive, because, you know, this painting is actually two paintings in one, so I am going to charge you twice. Of course, these mystery reveal stories are exciting and I am the first one on line to read them, but for some reason I have this nagging feeling that somebody is exploiting all these stories just to get their pockets stuffed, even though artists, whose works are being sold, died penniless.
I won’t lie, a part of the reason why I am running this blog is to become this “scanner” for you. I’d rather reveal these stories myself than am caught with my pans around my ankles, buried six feet under. I don’t mind to be found in a compromising position, but, come on, I am dead there, so where is the fun for me, huh?
This idea is not new, but it is always exciting. I might get myself into this overthinking mode, but I will just shut up and continue what I have already began with my paintings from the very first blob of an oily color I put on an empty surface at G.’s place, who said, that I must paint after finding me covered in paint early in the morning, still without a minute of rest from the world which was opening up in front of me with every brush stroke I made while all was still and sleepy.
My “Orange Kiss Goodbye” (The Kiss Goodbye) is not done yet. I want to check how the canvas could look if I completely cover the whole “mysterious character’s face” in a different color, giving it a certain, almost graffiti like, feel. I am still hesitating, but I shouldn’t be, because well, it is my work and I deal with it the way I need to. The dilemma I am having is that I already like the painting even though I am bothered by this feeling that something is still missing like, for example, this mysterious character I am trying to highlight, making it more permanent on the surface. The character is most likely happening. I just need to spend a bit of time away from the painting to be able to see how it should be done.
The story of The Blue Boy Richard with His Pink Tailed Pet Fish is still in the works, though the character on the canvas is a portrait of somebody I was in love with some time ago.
What I remember clearly about him are his lips, a lot of times cracked from the cold or dehydration. He lived with me, but he also dated somebody else, which, it seemed, made his lips crack even more. For the reveal of the full story you will need to wait a bit, you know, maybe a century or two, because I might be refused the privileges of “still un-dead artist” and might find some dead fish in my bed as the sign of… well, You Are a Dead Fish now, if I reveal the story before its time, meaning, the people in the tale are still alive and strong enough to beat me up somewhere in a dark alley. You say: “cracked lips? I’ll give you some cracked lips, just watch,” ha.
Oh the mess of falling in love and making all kinds of chaotic decisions because of it. I made quite a few, but hey, they are like this cut ear of the artist you all, I am sure, know. Oh the dramatics of late night calls from lovers, which only proved, we all walked the fish in the rain as some kind of dog on a leash.
My love interest lived with me until the fish began to stink. One day he was not there, the fish was also nowhere to be found. It all got stolen by the alley cat, it seemed. Where he is now, I do not know, but I hope he is okay. The Boy is a type of person who always has this sadness about himself like his pink tailed pet fish he walks from place to place.
Originally written on 02-18-18, edited on 12-02-19