“The Artist As Main Course”
Luvart Gotscrewd, 1975
Oil on plywood
Here is an innocent fawn; so vulnerable it still has its protective spotted camouflage. One day it is gamboling about enjoying its sylvan freedom and the next it is covered with flesh eating fiends, dripping blood while they parasitize its orifices. In this nightmarish painting, our artist is consumed by the professional art gallery world. They attempt to digest him completely from the inside out as they assault the twin high alters of creativity, his heart and brain. Staggering toward the dingy yellow light of wrecked hope in the distance, the little deer glances back with painful resignation, warning all artists they are forever doomed within this profit driven machine. Viewed backwards in a mirror, his rump spots spell the word Banksy.
Arial Sushi, 1990
Acrylic on canvas
In this charming piece the well-known canned tuna label artist, Arial Sushi, ventures out of her market driven art rut to explore the budding sexuality of a fantastical homohumpback. The pretty little mermaid’s nether parts will be denied her eagerly approaching, sea hardened sailor, and the young siren seems in a confused quandary. The blue waters, littered with the floating bodies of other sea creatures, symbolize the many cast-off suitors who have yearned - to no avail - for her salty embrace.
K.L. and J.O.
"Yucatan Hellhole / Seamus O'Mallard"
Sarah K. Allen, 1962
Acrylic on canvas
We keep trying really hard to like this painting. After all, it has a tragically dying green stegosaurus (lower left) and 5 (6?) pretty little green ducks attempting desperately to fly through the thick green air over a green hazy swamp past an indistinct green jungle. But lets face it. This is a monochromatic mess with a vaguely post apocalyptic, day-after-the-meteorite-hit the Yucatán, feeling about it; Allen could have at least put a rescue jet ski in the misty distance, or a Precambrian mammal with little grasping flippers hanging onto a rock to give us a shred of hope for our distant future.
Guillaume Apollinaire, 1917
Oil on canvas
Our “people in the know” say that this extraordinary painting was part of the set decoration of the famous 1917 surrealist play “Les Mamelles de Tiresias” by Guillaume Apollinaire. It gave rise to the famous hippo mothballs craze that swept the Parisian art world in 1926. The dancing hippo represents the unconscious mind, which longs to be smothered in mothballs. They give off a radiant glow and offer enlightenment. The hippo is not under attack, but welcomes the invigorating smell of naphthalene. But, beware of the pyramid of red things at the bottom of the painting. They represent obstacles that block the inner mind’s upward spiral. This painting is a stunning achievement in “le movement de hippo et boule de naphthlene."
Helmut Tuttass, PhD.
“Route 66 Beans and Beef”
Buck Merritt, 1955
Mierda de vaca and salsa on stretched bull scrotums
This is an original work by part-time truck driver, bull castrator, and truck stop menu designer, Buck Merritt. We are drawn to this downsized landscape because of Merritt’s practical use of found materials to create his menu cover illustrations. The artist has faithfully portrayed the yearly migration of well behaved New Mexican ash trees as they arrange themselves in orderly lines and march quietly over the hill - We are also impressed by the numerological use of 3 mesas, 5 rocks, 10 trees, 13 chilies, and 200 white dots… what that all means, we have absolutely no idea.
"State Fair Cravings"
Jay Jerkhoffer, 1957
Watercolor and body fluids on paper
Thought by some to be nothing more than a poor child’s food fantasy, this art critic senses something far more primordial on display here. In this painfully honest disclosure of sexual frustration and missed opportunities, the discriminating art viewer sees nothing less than a symbolic representation of biblical “spilled seed”. The artist Jerkhoffer has placed wiggling, tumbling spermatozoa and a deliciously phallic hot dog close to, but clearly missing the round, pink and red symbols of female voluptuous desire… In 1957, a young man in tight pants wandered throughout a noisy state fair working himself into a frenzy.
"Bitter Pretty Patty"
Patricia Highborn, 1998
Acrylic on repurposed Masonite
In this painfully honest self-portrait middle-aged Patty bitterly faces up to the fact that she can no longer keep up with her son’s paintball team –especially when she plays naked. Come on Patty! What were you thinking? And that purple uterus like-sack with the grapes inside is symbolic of god-knows-what. Maybe its time for a new sport Patty - perhaps bingo or bridge?
Pony Boy Brown, 1985
Watercolor on paper
Before you agree to a close up portrait, here are a few words of advice:
So that viewers can actually see your face, get a hair cut first; smile - don’t sneer, it makes folks nervous; double chins multiply when you scrunch up your neck so wear a turtle neck and finally, if possible, try to think nice thoughts because even a pretty blue blouse doesn’t disguise the calculating gaze of a mean lady.
“Martian Bluddha Plus Questions”
Valbourg Tanglelegs, 2005
Acrylic on canvas
As we look at this painting we ask questions, lots of questions. Why are there two moons? Or are they suns? And if they are suns why is the Buddha blue with cold instead of burning up? If they are moons, could the Enlightened One be meditating on Mars? The mountains are red so perhaps it is Mars. But if it is Mars what is the golf course doing there and how do the Martians keep the grass so green? Perhaps there is no water shortage on Mars after all. So does that mean that Buddha is an avid golfer and that he is meditating on his next shot? And how can he golf without ears, eyes, nose, and mouth? Is that a wooden plank that he is sitting on and if so won’t he get splinters on his butt? What do the two spirals represent and why does the Holy One have such hunky arms? The mountains look like they are smugly smirking. I think they have all the answers.
"Strawberry Tea / Menstruation Envy"
Donald K. MacDonald, M.D., K.E., Fellow ABI, 2008
Gobs of cornstarch, grape and strawberry jelly and Cool Whip smeared on canvas
The highly respected Sierra Foothills gynecologist Dr.Donald MacDonald painted this exuberant abstract. Opulently depicting the monthly tidal elements of a seething uterus, it lay in a dark garage for 3 years before being surreptitiously removed and offered by the artist’s love smitten grandson to the cowgirl of his dreams. With tender eloquence, the inscription on the reverse side of the painting reveals his deep feelings.
“To Cat – Have a excellent year as 54th rodeo queen 5/4/11”
"The Ninth Wave Revisited"
Ecyoj (Joyce spelled backwards), 1999
Oil on canvas
Inspired by 19th century masters of water art like Ivan Aivazovsky and Anders Zorn, Ecyoj felt moved to convey her great affection for the eternal beauty of ocean waves. The inspiration came during a hearty breakfast of undercooked huevos rancheros with no toast to wipe the plate clean. The potent yellow and red hues that dominate the piece and distract the viewer from any other potentially redeeming feature are symbolic of the runny yolk and hot salsa, respectively. One is forced to ponder: why were the eggs so undercooked? Who prepared such a haphazard meal? Why not simply scramble the eggs? Since its release, the work has held a contentious place in the art historian community sparking vitriolic disagreement between two camps that have formed: those that prefer their eggs poached and those that prefer over easy. The unforeseen impact of this masterpiece has left the world eagerly anticipating the artist’s next release.
"Burning to Escape"
Chic Crambo, 2008
Acrylic on canvas
This painting poignantly constructs rich layers of references and processes and hints strongly of a recent violent, prolonged, transformative, psychic episode - or simply an eruptive crisis in the young man’s gut pipes. In a tremendous release of creative energy Crambo has crafted new – and at times unknowable experiences of form and images. Seduced by the use of complimentary colors and rounded stylized shapes we are captivated by the piercing glare of the mouth-less flame face which may represent the old “pour lighter fluid into the bottle, toss a match in and watch the resulting display of trapped Northern lights” trick or a courageous exposé of the artist’s complex relationship with sexy thong underwear.
"The Agony of Brother Pippo / It Was His Bag Baby!"
Pippo Monolo, 1489
Organic pasta sauce and Hershey’s chocolate syrup on calfskin
The eccentric, but gifted Italian Renaissance monk is famous for never having left his cozy, but highly flammable paper bag hut. On loan from the Vatican, we are privileged to have in our collection his final creation, produced while peering out at a fiery landscape and desperately chanting the Act of Contrition. This magnificent work born of such tragic circumstances survived the sweeping inferno in pristine condition. But alas! Br. Monolo’s remains were anything but pristine. With blackened lips covered in chocolate syrup his charred corpse was found protectively clutching this testament to his chest. A marble shrine stands where his bag used to be; the magnificent old tree, long thought dead, is now crowned with leafy green and miraculously issues forth a bubbling spring from its base.
"Geronimo Questions Reality"
George Larter, 2008
Acrylic, tears and mud on buffalo hide
George Larter’s depiction of America’s most famous Native American is truly one of his finest masterpieces. The quizzical inclination of the old man’s head seems to ask, “Just what the fuck happened and how could it have ever gone so wrong?” With freshly washed and styled hair and neatly folded headband the worn out old has been indicates a desperate attempt to embrace western society. Or are we witnessing a freeze frame of the old warrior a split second before his head is removed from his torso by a sneaky black bear? The fathomless gaze of the eyeless sockets approach perilously close to hypnotizing the viewer as they peer from within a landscape deeply etched from the pain of White Man’s transgressions. This powerful piece simply oozes guilt ridden liberal empathy!
Benedetto Di Parma, 1899
Oil on millboard
Julius Cesar, Hernan Cortes, and now Baby Al Capone -this child has definitely been around before. His manly face and commanding stare demand respect. The 19th century Brooklyn artist Di Parma, wielding a limited value range, demonstrates exquisite skill juxtaposing the murderous energy of a gangster larva reclining helplessly on a fluffy baby blanket. In a few years this infant would be declaring: “Now I know why tigers eat their young.”
Timmy Boy Bullet, 2004
Collage, newspaper, ash and acrylic on canvas
This psychiatric gold mine was found in the cluttered basement of the infamous serial pyromaniac, Timmy Boy Bullet. From his cell in the county jail Bullet confessed to 20 urban “big burners” and 10 forest fires across the West. He confided that this particular piece was his personal favorite because it reminded him of camping trips with buddies where they ate Smores and discussed the challenge of burning the forest down with just newspaper. As evidence, this revealing piece was used to convict and condemn this tortured man to live out the remainder of his life in San Quentin Prison where he divides his time between leading prayer circles, making candles and pumping gas for the prison vehicles.
Frank Lloyd Wright, 1935
Acrylic, china marker and guacamole on velvetone Masonite
The great American architect Frank Lloyd Wright was known to have executed multiple painted mockups prior to creating prototypes for all his masterpieces. This highly symbolic mockup echoes Frank’s oft politely overlooked misspent teen years south of the boarder in an Oaxacan jungle brothel. The high contrast china marker lines rebelliously strike out across the matt surface probing, pushing and thrusting as they explore the lush green Venus mounds. All this is accompanied by a generously languid flow of tequila tumbling over the rocks. It is thought that a pubescent fascination with Mexican fish ladders spawned the idea for his Pennsylvanian forest masterpiece. This unsigned and undated cryptic sketch reflects the artist’s underlying insecurity about the design of so many unsupported cantilevered surfaces, which fly in the face of gravity-based Newtonian physics.
K.L. and J.O.
"Amelia Goes Beyond"
Anony Muss, 2000
Collage and acrylic on canvas
Ever wonder what happened to Amelia Earhart? Well, Anony Muss knows. Contrary to popular opinion she does not sleep in the watery deeps, but lives among the stars on the moon or perhaps a futuristic verdant planet alla Jules Vern. In this eclectic collage we are invited to contemplate the mystery that is pregnant with possibilities. This promising artist has planted Amelia's bust, like a space goddess, atop a swirling nebula of stardust as a red dwarf explodes over her head, undoubtedly signifying her transcendence above all earthly restraints. This contrasts with the search plane (upper left), which continues, to this day, to circle hopelessly listening for the telltale "ping" of the black box.
"That Which Survives"
Rusty Bridges, 1968
Acrylic on stretched spandex
Stubbornly petulant and brilliantly bilious, Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise is not having a nice day. For starters, the Romulans are sword rattling in the Alpha quadrant, sector Z6 and F=ma has been conclusively proven false by a 12 year old physics post doc at MIT. And to make matters worse, God has been located, living in a cardboard box under a Los Angeles Freeway onramp and she’s really pissed off and Spock is being too fucking logical about it all, as usual. Traveling at warp speed 14.1 won’t make it all go away. Therefore, nothing less than complete cellular disruption in the Emergency Overload Bypass is called for.
"Stunned in Sioux Land"
J. Dunk, 1999
Felt tip pens, Pilot silver marking pen on paper bag
This once proud Sioux warrior appears shocked at having just grasped the meaning of a hopeless future in White Man’s society or possibly he’s been turned into yet another zombie because our Mr. Dunk didn’t bother to learn how to draw human eyes. And because Mr. Dunk decided a little silver highlighting looked cool, then surely lots more would be even cooler, and so compulsively attacked the floppy fettuccini epaulettes. With botoxed lips the subject seems plumply perturbed at the absence of a torso beneath his floating head and shoulders. Instead the artist chose to lavish the bottom of the drawing with an inky black void, which extends unaccountably over the tangerine orb. One can imagine him on his 4th espresso, hunched over this frenetically detailed drawing searching obsessively for just one more place to outline with silver or fill in with black ink. The question remains: Did the caffeine run out first, or the silver marker?
"Out of the Void"
Pen and ink, bourbon whiskey on paper
We thought he was dead too, but it appears since his “demise” in 1977 the King Of Rock and Roll has been living quietly in Petaluma California! Here, in an unassuming chicken coop, the music superstar has been channeling for an ancient Pomo shaman’s ghost by creating drawings of unmatched sensitivity of a once prominent Native Californian tribe. Apparently the native man, being a fan of Harrison Ford movies and aware of Elvis’ weakness for high fashion, requested that Elvis place a sassy little Indiana Jones hat on his head. We are thrilled that Elvis has nurtured this connection to the spirit world and you can bet that we will be keeping our eye out for more priceless gems from our Mississippi hip swiveler!