Some artists -- Bill Hammond, et al, Henry Darger, and so on -- are famously reticent about their work, and there's nothing wrong with that. But equally, I always admire an artist who's happy to front. Here's the latest in the small guy's epics of crime and punishment.
"The grumpy jellyfish is stinging the shark up the bum. Pretty much everyone’s grumpy, except the octopus, who’s happy. He’s trying to get the electric eel with his tentacles, and here he’s grabbing the shark, whose eyeball has popped out of its socket. Down the bottom a turtle is asleep, and some eyeballs are following the shark. This diver is happy because he’s found a dead crab. There’s an undersea restaurant called Soy Boogers. Two pirates on a pirate ship are making a turtle walk the plank. And up the top a happy jellyfish is stinging the electric eel up the bum."
4 comments:
I like the multiple accounts of "stinging up the bum" because at least half of the people I have ever met who have an involvement in the arts are a pain in the arse.
Gee, really? I thought it was about something completely different. Guess I better hand in my badge, I'm out of touch with the new generation.
Funny you should say that, Artfromspace. I have been wondering if it is a subtle visual parody of the New Zealand art world. Who IS the grumpy jellyfish? Who is the hapless electric eel, fizzing away but ultimately impotent? Who is the poor old turtle being made to walk the plank? And what enthusiastic young diver has just dug up a ancient and very stinky dead crab? I do have my suspicions.
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