Un objet de l'art.

[KG4CGC]

http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c79/bebop5/Aliens%20Guy/PA240013copy_zps16a7f053.png (http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c79/bebop5/Aliens%20Guy/PA240013copy_zps16a7f053.png)

[PA5COR]

Why not buy glasses?

[KG4CGC]

It's organic. Art appears in nature and when it does, you must capture and share it.

[NQ6U]

Who the hell looks at their keys while they're typing anyhow?

[KG4CGC]

I do a lot of typing in the dark and the letters had worn off so I painted them back on. We had this discussion almost a year ago.
Now the letters are wearing off again and I thought it would make a great object to hang on the wall.

OK then, satisfied, Assholes?

[K7SGJ]

Is there such a thing as a satisfied asshole?

[W5BRM]

Is there such a thing as a satisfied asshole?
Yes. Especially after getting over the three day shits... :lol:

[KG4CGC]

Is there such a thing as a satisfied asshole?

Many rectal connotations to that phrase.

Art is subjective. However, there is no need to be rude. Perhaps I should have refrained from calling my brothers assholes. At least I capitalized the "A." It is posted in artists guild section.

Je devrais peut-être renommer le titre de "La Cage des folies."
Souvent mon travail est remis en question comme le travail d'un toxicomane ou même un homme étrange.
L'Art est subjectif. Nature est subjective et objective. Les hommes sont simplement des hommes.
Depuis ce jour avec impatience, J'insulte les humains en français.

[PA5COR]

Pardon your French.... ;)

[NQ6U]

I am pleased to announce my satisfaction as an asshole. Thank you very much.

[NA4BH]

I am pleased to announce my satisfaction as an asshole. Thank you very much.

Whinney asshole

[WØTKX]

Reminds me of a favorite po-emmm. :neener:





The Conundrum of the Workshops







When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, "It's pretty, but is it Art ?"

Wherefore he called to his wife, and fled to fashion his work anew -
The first of his race who cared a fig for the first, most dread review;
And he left his lore to the use of his sons -- and that was a glorious gain
When the Devil chuckled "Is it Art ?" in the ear of the branded Cain.

They fought and they talked in the North and the South, they talked and
they fought in the West,
Till the waters rose on the pitiful land, and the poor Red Clay had rest -
Had rest till that dank blank-canvas dawn when the dove was preened to start,
And the Devil bubbled below the keel: "It's human, but is it Art ?"

They builded a tower to shiver the sky and wrench the stars apart,
Till the Devil grunted behind the bricks: "It's striking, but is it Art ?"
The stone was dropped at the quarry-side and the idle derrick swung,
While each man talked of the aims of Art, and each in an alien tongue.

The tale is as old as the Eden Tree - and new as the new-cut tooth -
For each man knows ere his lip-thatch grows he is master of Art and Truth;
And each man hears as the twilight nears, to the beat of his dying heart,
The Devil drum on the darkened pane: "You did it, but was it Art ?"

We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a surplice-peg,
We have learned to bottle our parents twain in the yolk of an addled egg,
We know that the tail must wag the dog, for the horse is drawn by the cart;
But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old: "It's clever, but is it Art ?"

When the flicker of London sun falls faint on the Club-room's green and gold,
The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch with their pens in the mould -
They scratch with their pens in the mould of their graves, and the ink and the anguish start,
For the Devil mutters behind the leaves: "It's pretty, but is it Art ?"

Now, if we could win to the Eden Tree where the Four Great Rivers flow,
And the Wreath of Eve is red on the turf as she left it long ago,
And if we could come when the sentry slept and softly scurry through,
By the favour of God we might know as much - as our father Adam knew!

~ Rudyard Kipling

[NQ6U]

I know something about art but I don't know what I like.

[suddenseer]

Is there such a thing as a satisfied asshole?Well actually, yes.

[suddenseer]

http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c79/bebop5/Aliens%20Guy/PA240013copy_zps16a7f053.png (http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c79/bebop5/Aliens%20Guy/PA240013copy_zps16a7f053.png)I like it. The symmetry , and uniformity of mass manufacturing which speaks a plethora of related topics. For a fleeting moment in time, something that is not symmetrical, or mass produced interacts, and changes the scene. This thing exists by a different set of rules, if any. Images that capture a moment in time, like a line intersecting a plane producing a point. This point evokes feelings, memories, and other imagery that cannot be quantified. I like it.

[n2ize]

In the old days the letters and numbers didn't wear off. That's what I like about my old IBM keyboard. Just be careful not to drop it on your foot, it is a heavy sunuvabeeyatch. On other cheaper keyboards I have stencilled new letters on them and then dabbed them over with a little bit of collodion to protect the stencils from wearing off.