JUST WHAT THE FUCK MAN?





Just What the Fuck Man?
acrylic, watercolor on paper

23.5 x 52.75 "

 

After reading Trish's email that the Arts Incubator was closing permanently, I just sat dumbfounded.  To sublimate, I went to paint and this lyric from The Dance Party - 'Lipstick' kept repeating in my head, " 'tious what the fuck man."  

INTIMATE WITH THE ORGY OF NIGHT

Arts Incubator, 3rd Floor

to those
intimate with the orgy of night
who outlast the nagging day for the efflorescent purity
its freedom, possibility, vitality
for you I make this offering

First Fridays at the Arts Incubator of KC

Arts Incubator of KC115 W. 18th St. KCM0 64108| 3rd floor Studio 312

I hate having to learn Photoshop & Illustrator - well, actually I hate that any precocious elementary school kid is more adept with the programs than I.    I can't believe I didn't take any computer arts classes in college - it's almost the equivalent of not being able to read or write for a visual artist.  At least I have those observational drawing skills, which are going the way of long division, hand written notes, and many other quaint oddities of a modern world.  


As an artist who is all about the process: authenticity of mark, observational drawing, etc. I don't want to get to buddy-buddy with the technology (or precursor to) that will eventually make hand-made paintings a rare commodity.  First it was photography, then Photoshop and the ease of obtaining projectors, ready-mades, appropriation that have lowered the standard for what we as a society call an artist.  Eventually, they'll advance the technology of 3-d printers, 3-d vision, and holograms until we get to an advanced Ghost in the Shell world where the virtual world is the primary world.  Oh yay.  

ARTS INCUBATOR, EVENT LOFT

Arts Incubator
Event Loft, 3rd floor

because it's cool here

REBIRTH: ARTS INCUBATOR

In the all-encompassing oyster gray, my blood hisses as it slides through my catatonic kid corpse, revivifying as it sears.  I absurdly clutch at cascades of light, as it fondus my cryogenic desolation.    My aerial self-efficay escalates piles of princely orange peels.




www.artsincubatorkc.org

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