Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Peep Poetry I: The Art Jury

                                           snippet of painting by me some years ago
The Art Jury
Dear Diary
The sixth art show that I entered
Has just rejected me
What meaning in my shapes and colors
Did the art jury not happen to see?
Who needs art by committee
anyway or a long winding list of rules?
Guess my brand of art isn’t weird enough
Nor sufficiently free and easy to fool the upturned noses
Of this particular art school!
But there’s art projects that I do
That I’ve held in a box
And kept to myself
There’s safety and privacy in leaving them on the shelf
Back in 1991
Another art jury did a number on me
Rejecting my Victorian teak painting
For a modern art freak
Armed with jar after jar
Of brown and yellow pee
All my years of painting
Tossed and thrown to the side
Favoring an artist
Who only wanted to take everyone for a ride
I remember the run-ins with art juries back in school
And had good teachers
Exceptions to the rule
But everyone else
Wanted it priced high enough
To sit above a couch
Hanging as high as the viewpoints
Voiced by those jet-setting snobs
Even if prices you paid for their friend’s creations
Left you feeling cheated and robbed
Some of the art seems tailor-made
To fool if not disgust
Maybe I’d have gotten further in life
If I’d painted Rivers of pus
Or standard issue skulls
Or melted baby dolls
Or a can gone to rust
Maybe I am too much of a hick
Too homegrown in my tastes
Lacking the sophistication
The sizzle, the flash and the gimmicks
That guide the art jury’s taste
If I could go back in time
Would I give the away the paint
If I knew the trouble that would follow
me from art, it’s enough to make me faint
Well I’ve had my own art shows in the past
Selling 7 paintings at once to a handful of
Friends and onlookers
Whose appreciation was built to last
The verdict is in
I don’t even care
I probably will still do art
Even if I do not want to share.
I wrote this poem out of frustration of trying to enter the normal "art world". Each fee at the cheapest was $45.00 and I remember cringing thinking in a couple of them I was going to be left out for not having an excellent enough frame. This was one reason I came to call myself an "outsider artist". Isn't that a title someone can put on themselves? Even my comic will exist in that realm. I'm not drawing fancy super heroes with 300 dollar graphics programs to jazz them up but doing it old school.
The art world sadly is snob city. Low socio-economics do not apply! Yesterday I got a stack of magazines called Sculpture. This is a high art magazine. Someone had wrapped bits of yarn around a piece of burlap and shoved some newspapers in the gaps, and they called it art. Some of the sculptures looked like someone threw pile of mud on the floor and dried it, I kid you not. I am tempted to take pictures of some of this stuff to remark on it, maybe later.

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