visiting The World Just Makes Me Laugh by Ugo Rondinone at BAMPFA it has been reviewed here
“A work of art!” Peter thought, waking up to a beautiful sunny Saturday morning in San Francisco, opening the window shades to let the warm light in. It was September, the month that gives locals their blue sky Summer, after two months of fog, something like a second Spring. He rushed to the living room to see if the painting was still there, or had only been a dream. Download: Chapter 5 – The Morning After About “A Work of Art”
They had reserved a table for three at Chez Matthieu, one of the newest French Fusion restaurants in the neighborhood. Reservations had to be made at least a week in advance, and Matthieu didn’t care if you were the Queen of England or a fabulous queen of the neighborhood. Patrons were never pushed out to make space for others, and they could stay for as long as they wanted, until closing time. Matthieu’s fans who had been to France said it was like being in France. You couldn’t ask for substitutions in the menu, which was short enough to limit your indecision. Download: Chapter 8 – Critics and love About “A Work of Art”
This was not going to be an ordinary Sunday. Peter reached sleepily for the pen and spiral notebook that always sat on his nightstand to capture his dreams before they vanished. He wrote: Download: Chapter 9 – Painted state of mind About “A Work of Art”
Perhaps such events could be considered extraordinary, some would call them miraculous, others just fortunate. I like to think it was just a coincidence, but what would life be without a chance encounter that gives you a sense of awe and wonder? My art rescued my muse. Download: Chapter 11 – it all comes together About “A Work of Art”
The Birth of a Neo-Expressionist Painting Memories clog the channels of the mind The fingers twitch from the need to paint Alerting sensations to the task. Eyes sit on the subject A mantra meditatively clearing ideas on a false start. A tentative dip in color An adroit skin tone begins In softness imagined, moisturized and hydrated. A dissonant vase made and cracked in a virtual world A nest in a corner of what could be love Unseen notes from a singing voice Floating to the suggested ears Give the body a frisson. A timely switch to a less dominant hand blends in A quasi medieval being massages the back, invisible Thrusting the body towards the viewer An unintended provocation. The painting is unfinished.