Everybody is getting cable. All the houses are connected. And the Spectrum thugs come in pairs, sometimes even a foursome to snatch away your dreams. Many of you will order the complete package, and in a month pay what the painting is priced at, for thousands of strangers to advertise meaninglessness to you. For $15 you can get live streaming of practically any talent without the commercials, and afford a painting to last two lifetimes. And when friends come over, they won’t be able to judge you, like “Oh my God, window cleaning and beer commercials. How 80’s indsutrial! Wait, what’s that hanging on your wall? What is it? A painting. From a Russian? But the people at Spectrum told me to fear Russians because oil runs the world, and petroleum makes the plastic bottle for my Windex to squirt out of. Oh God, I’m confused and it makes me uneasy inside because I see now that everything is absolutely the same! How much? Let me take it off your wall, I love it! 150? Sold! I am born again and free!”
We can do this. We are human again. We can call up Spectrum and tell them to eat our cheese. There are only a few evils left, and they’re touting the lot of them. Eliminate propaganda and join the artists as we visit new worlds from the peace of our little tomorrows and wonderful homes.
This painting looks best in a blue room on a cool day, hanging above an out of tune piano. If you see how I see that a painting stays with you until you die, then you would purchase Miles for the musician in your life whom you love enough for him or her to always be reminded of you.
Here is a short video of the gallery minutes before opening finished with some jazz by The Frank Gordon Trio. Find the painting on the wall that you like and contact me your interest to learn more about it and see some stills of detail. Domestic shipping is extra, but not too much. Below the video are the two paintings not caught in movie, their titles, size and price.
Thank you once again to everyone who stepped out to celebrate “Lena Ulanova Entrainment”!
I hope to see friends and new friends tomorrow night. I have door prizes of painting(s) and a vacuum sealer. I’ve added a couple quiches to the menu and washed the floors on my hands and knees. Autumn is the surprise time, and our second gale in a week blew over Ontario last night. It’s time to batten down the hatches and set that third sheet to the wind. If you drive, think taxis. If you walk, think about making a taxi driver your private chauffeur. Pretend with me that we’re crazy rich, but not necessarily in that order.
Lena did it again, and this morning I saw Bacchus at court in full inebriation. Many birds and a bald guy came to call.
“Beautiful strangers in New York. Ancient Greek Gods and Danae. Bacchus is the God of Winemaking and Inspiration.” 2018. Acrylic, and photo by Eric Olson.
While perusing Twitter this morning I came across the National Gallery feed, and a curator’s post of her excitement at hanging some 11 x 14″ Dutch master of ancient times. And rightfully so! There is a wonderful feeling to hold and view the treasures of generations past. She put on her white gloves, strolled down to subterranean darkness to retrieve the artifact among thousands, and so carefully brought it out to artificial daylight to hang on its alarm nail for a few months, the end.
She got paid, and then tweeted her thrill, and probably went to a delicious lunch in Georgetown, seated next to a table of Saudi diplomats openly mocking the moral elasticity of our politicians and many other game players at our nation’s capital.
Just another art history PhD having lunch in a topsy-turvy world.
Juxtapose her curatorial effort with mine and you’ll see that art is very much alive and well on planet earth, with many more artists in the actual daylight and moonlight striving to bring humanity back up or down to equilibrium.
I made my house a gallery because the National Gallery does not want this nation to see and feel the art of the living. It dots its halls with copy-cat painters to wow visitors who aren’t wowed enough with imagination wrought by their own powers. “Look, a painting by a Dutch master! And look, some amazing painter copying the Dutch master’s painting for an hourly wage! It looks just like that Rembrandt!”
How efficiently federal pretend capitalism shames the living talents of its own visual art makers.
Turns them into monkeys for money.
The National Gallery curator sees no irony because she has a similar working imagination of dead-eyed Saudi diplomats.
Lena Ulanova Entrainment—
Brought to you by reverence. Paid for by it too. And because all avarice has been buried in the yard with the squirrel’s nuts, no National Gallery can hold a candle to it.
Here we go. I have just made final arrangements with the Frank Gordon Trio, ordered the new element for the oven, purchased fresh flowers at a steal, weathered an all-night wind storm and gale off the lake, and am ready for art lovers and friends of art lovers to meet the inspiration of Lena Ulanova.
I have planned a menu for the opening. Please don’t tell me what you think now, just come in on Friday and break pounds of bread with me in the flesh, and Lena in spirit.
Palatable menu for expressive paintings to be exhibited:
Chocolate chip cookies
Double chocolate cookies
Peanut butter cookies
Fresh picked empire apples
Spiced almonds, pecans, cashews, maybe pistachios
Smoked salmon with capers and dill
Butternut squash soup
New oven element roast beef
New oven element roast turkey
Vegetables and multigrain breads and rolls for sandwiches
Coffee and tea
Many beverages including sangria
And an autumn night filled with space.
First, a song about Andy, followed by a great autumn song:
Or vice-versa. Two serious clowns—one struggling the anonymous existence and the other trapped in the poisonous web of mega-celebrity. Serious and intense clowns—there are no other types.
One of these is on exhibit and available for purchase, now if you want, Friday if you wait. I’ll give you a hint. It’s the one honoring the man who said “vloek!” not “shazbat!” when nobody bought his paintings.
And it’s for sale at $150 U.S. Metal frame, under glass.