When I was a Painter

August 1, 2010 § Leave a comment

I did things like frame the air with my fingers and exclaim, “Magnifique!” even if I’d seen a thousand grey scenes like yours before. I would pull my thumb from my mouth with an obnoxious “pop” and jam the digit into the air, testing for artistic direction or some other cocky thing.

I painted countless genitals. Honestly, prostitutes haven’t seen the quantity of cock I’ve seen. Allen Ginsberg hasn’t even written as many words about cock as actual organs I’ve painted. If you write about genitals, it’s pornographic. No one ever considered my paintings pornographic. No one really considers any painting pornographic.

You could paint a scene straight out of 1970’s porn & because you painted it, it would magically lose all pornographic association and morph into art. Seriously, people will buy it and hang it in their dining rooms. Relatives will discuss its warm tones over Thanksgiving dinner and remark on its baroque romanticism until you want to stab them with your electric carving knife and scream, “It’s porn! PORN, you artistically retarded heathens. I painted a porno!”

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