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Stuckism in the House
Another Friday mini-exhibition
A week’s work to show in my house because in Stuckism, after the painting, showing is what matters. I want people to see them “in the canvas”, so to speak. That is the reason for the Friday invites. I’ve made it three weeks in a row, and hope to continue throughout autumn and winter. Last night we spoke about the art on the wall for less than 5 minutes, and talked about each other for over two hours. A few folk songs were stuck in, along with curried lentil soup and naan bread, the fluffy kind, indigenous to Oswego.
I hope to grow emotionally to eliminate vanities like Instagram® and Facebook® once and for all. I will quit both the day after attendance at these Friday exhibitions equals or exceeds the average “like” or “heart” on the anti-social media, which is 17. The magic freedom number.
Stuckism is also about painting with ideas.
Here are some:
Cease painting for technology. Besides peace on earth, the super majority on the other end of a phone computer doesn’t want what you want, and the feeling is mutual. What if artists stopped providing free content for billionaires? That would be something. What if we weren’t so interesting after all, under any condition? Maybe it’s the “out there” that is wonderful, and the “in here” that is actually quite stiff and a dumb bore. What if we could freeze people’s fingers from rapidly screen flipping up and down? I for one don’t want any judgement. It’s all subjective and usually as thoughtful as toilet flushing. I respect the opinions of fellow painters, knowing that if they took the second to “heart and like” then they spent a lifetime looking. Or close to it. The artists on Instagram are few. But I can spot ’em. Easy-peasy. If they lived in my town, they wouldn’t miss a single Friday, barring stopped-heart emergency. And I would never miss his Thursday. Or her Tuesday if I had feet to take me to the house exhibition.
So take me to 17 interested guests. That’s more soup for me to cook and 34 eyes to look into mine, and at my art.
That is naked. Standing, sitting, moving naked for art. Incredibly discomfiting and wonderful, a little bit.
Hope to see you next Friday!