Thank you Lena for these beautiful paintings to show!
Eager buyer, I shall wrap it up with the greatest care in a box you will save as a conscientious example of all future packaging to come.
So, that’s two works of art for the price of one, although the latter is industrial art and not at all mantel pretty. Bring it to the office and show colleagues how to mail an order out, and then invite a colleague or several to dinner and show off the Ulanova you recently purchased because life is worth living, and we do it one time, and spending on beauty is your right practiced without the threat of military police and search dogs.
Buy this today and I will toss in a swab of true artist DNA which will improve taste in any human gene pool seeking to unwind and uplift its mortal burden. The art market could use a reforming GMO to pop the TIA (tulips in Amsterdam) bubble that floats above all realities, laughing at them. Sometimes the bubble breezes into a private plane, and this painting here shall become an accurate rocket launcher from the ground, from the base, from the real reality where artists pine for an equal playing field. Aim. Fire! That’s some GMO not to mess with!
And the oligarch no longer enters a world he was never invited to. We are the salon of the future but only if we cease with stupid phraseology like “the cream rises to the top”. Cream comes from cow’s milk and after 5,000 years, science tells us that lactose makes our guts turn inside out. Some also declare the milk protein is causing us cancer like it does in rats. So I don’t want cream anymore. Leave it in the cow for the calf. The putrid stench of rot also rises to the top. When we need a new metaphor to share the story of the big city art market, lets embrace our mutual intolerance and call out the oligarchs as the putrid stench that rose to the top.
Amsterdam had pretty tulips to sell as if there were no other perennials to flower in the early spring. The super rich were bored and super stupid.
Nothing has changed, so buy a painting on your own today because unlike 17th century Holland, you, the outskirts peasant, can afford these more colorful tulips, and at the same time ruin the stupid game of stupid rich people spending enormous sums on what nature and the artists give practically for free.
Purchase these well appointed ladies and I will toss in one of our 6 x 3′ exhibition banners. Great for the kid’s room or the man cave where the football posters and pennants used to hang before we realized that the NFL is just an oligarch plantation where wealth drops down in bags of gold, but dignity is fumbled, time and again.
And you can place the beautiful painting where your dignity still seeks appropriate outreach. The parlor or dining room. Below the purple granny we pass the potatoes on holiday and look upon the world with delight. Life is easy for the industrialized cultures. We know we’re lucky, so we make or purchase a painting and raise our young to be better than we are. It is the joy of responsibility. Those who refuse to seek it, are just jackasses, and there are many. That is why we have pain in places where its always Christmas on earth. Know an artist. Be an artist. Save the world from our wealthy self-pity.
Christies’ Art Tulips in Amsterdam Auction House of Billionaire Rot just sold an artificial intelligence masterpiece to an art-hater for $432,500.00.
Undercut these oligarchs of grand stupidity this holiday season. Pack all your years of love and human tenderness into a tiny fabric ball placed beneath your pillow on a snowy December night. Think on your children and grandchildren, holiday decoration and cheer, loved ones lost and gained and maintained. Dream a long, deep sleep night of a world without Jeff Bezos picking his ear wax and the next minute the modern serfs of earth throwing a billion coins at his feet. Think of Santa Claus and Charles Dickens, why not? And then watch a tremendous time lapsed video into the future beginning with a solitary bird of prey landing on a mall roof and the same species of bird leaving the mall of the future, level ground of earth now grass, wildflowers, insects, worms and no human being you have ever known or will know upon it. A people unknown moving over the mall that was so long ago, that is no more. People of no history because history wasn’t worth repeating to idiots who purchase paintings made by a computer.
In the morning take the fabric ball from under the pillow. Take it to the kitchen and squeeze it over your favorite coffee mug.
Alocasia juice and a new day worth living. Drink up!
All for one hundred and thirty dollars. Created by human hands in a world shared by humans. Try it sometime. It won’t hurt you as much as celebrity worship has.
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”!