I’m always skeptical about modern art. I tend to examine any modern art exhibit through a hazy prism of suspicion. Maybe an artist simply ruffles feathers like a rooster in order to look bigger? Or an artist tries to look mysterious but the fact that somebody looks mysterious doesn’t mean that the mysterious one has always a talent and intelligence. I don’t consider The Black Square by Malevich to be something huge. But I have to admit Fountain (Duchamp) has angles of view. Mr. Manson made a serve ‘Being a urinary doesn’t make you Duchamp’. Using it as a prompt I agree that no matter what means an artist has, no matter how scarce or abundant they are, an artist is the one who is capable of making transcendence from a urinal to a fountain. Also Duchamp may symbolize a lesbian or a feminist. Whether mockery is or is not intended, I agree. Every she must accept the fact that a urinal is what she was born with. The ultimate realization may stop urinals from waging thirsty war against fountains and may lay a concrete interaction foundation for cooperation and completion. Also Mr. Manson’s statement in combination with the art work prove one Greek wisdom right one more time a yesterday’s fag aspires to be today’s …doer. For me it’s true for males and females. His/her swallowing yesterday is their today and no matter how hard they try to persuade everybody that it was heavenly sweet and enormously pleasant experience. What I want to say is that Fountain really has angles. I’d love to know what angle(s) Mr. Manson sees. Nevertheless nobody hasn’t been able yet to find a persuasive explanation how it happens that occasionally millions of brains get urine washed so that they mistake an upside down urinal for a fountain. Whoever gives a well-founded explanation should get the Nobel Prize. It’s like some atypical massive hysteria. Now I’m hitting a tennis ball against a wall. What do I think looking at Fountain (Duchamp)? The first thought that came to my mind was from a urinating perspective (up down) it’s a urinal. But from a urinated perspective (down up) it’s a fountain. The biggest dream of a urinal is to be a fountain. It symbolizes a driving force for improvement in anything and in everybody. Now whether a urinal succeeds in being a fountain depends on the urinal itself, environment and timing. My second thought was one looks at a urinal and opens his fly. The other looks at a urinal and sees a fountain and maybe he opens his heart and makes a wish. I always say that it’s very important by what people and needs you are surrounded. Let’s say somebody who plays violin like a virtuoso and recites Dante found himself in the tribe somewhere in the heart of the Amazon Forest. The most primitive tribe dude will be much better than the absolutely useless virtuoso violinist because he can’t hunt monkeys for food, he doesn’t know what root or stalk to chew when he comes down with flu. The valuable is relative. All depends into what hands or better heads anyone and anything fall. My third thought was based on the fact that a considerable number of mothers look at their kids and really believe that their kids are very special in some or many senses while their little people are not or are not at all. Basically it’s the reason everyone wants love. Let’s say somebody falls madly in love with me and in his eye I look like Catherine Deneuve or Monica Belucci or Sophia Loren and my inner dynamics makes me Christine Lagarde. Meanwhile I’m in love with Christine Lagarde. I’d love to be her little helper. I’d carry her bag, take her suits to the dry cleaner’s, make her coffee, her dinner. I’m not joking. She’s strong, intelligent and shiny. However I wouldn’t do it for any other female except for her because no female except for Lagarde has ever hypnotized me the least. It’s called love. Returning to the imaginary lover. Of course, I’d understand that all his blind love resemblances were no more than love paranoia because I am not and very quickly they will be gone forever but I’d let him believe. What woman wouldn’t love being Belucci or Loren (the fairest) and Lagarde (the strongest) at the same time. Only a stupid one. What I try to say is everything related to the loved one is something cute, beautiful or even special in the loving mind. Even our outside inside flaws may become pretty. How don’t we see flaws? Who knows may be sometimes we crave for relief, we run down the hall, we storm into the nearest restroom, the moment we see or we don’t see urinals we realize that it’s the wrong restroom but it’s too late we can’t endure the pressure anymore, we piss all over the restroom floor, inevitably we slip on our own piss and when we regain consciousness, we see everything upside down. If a relief victim is a woman, urinals look like fountains. If a relief victim is a man, sinks (and bathroom bidets) look like church bells. If the trauma is severe, the victim may even hear them. Fountains and church bells sighting and hearing continue till one Good Samaritan sets off for the relief quest, finds the lying down victim and puts him/her in the upright position repeating the same question, stressing every word distinctively and pointing with his pointe finger ‘What is this?’ Out of bitterness being smelly and wet we angrily mumble ‘It’s urinals/sinks’. After we clean ourselves, we say ‘I saw fountains’ ‘I heard church bells’ ‘It was so beautiful’. I want to send goodnights to all Good Samaritans hoping that potential victims will use a restroom at least a couple of minutes before their urinary bladders explode with all undesirable consequences. I goodnight the world hoping we all will see everything wider, higher, bigger, more meaningful. I want everybody to feel and love the most so that we can’t tell apart ‘personal’ and ‘impersonal’. Only then we will be able to see fountains and hear church bells not only in the restroom but everywhere and always. And if something goes wrong, we’ll say ‘I saw a fountain. It’s the only thing I remember’.
Posted on: Sat, 24 Aug 2013 21:44:20 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015