Monday, June 3, 2013

Sometimes Art Scares Me

It's not that I can't appreciate the finer things in life. I can. I can even appreciate the odd things, like cactus flowers that I REALLY want to get up close and sniff but am terrified the cactus will attack me the second I lean in. But on a recent trip to Dallas, I spotted a few things that were artsy but scary.

Like this.


That's a shark fountain.

Those of you who, in the words of the great 30 Rock character Tracy Jordan, live every week like it's shark week probably aren't weirded out by this.

Because I have been terrified to get in murky or really deep water because I saw JAWS as a child, I have so much respect for sharks I just like to give them plenty of room. So much room that they can have the whole ocean.

A shark fountain? You might as well invite sharks to swim their way into your plumbing, then wait for you to take a bath or sit on the toilet! Look at the teeth on that bastard! The only wish you should make into that fountain is for one of those mesh shark suits to wear at all times because the sharks will NOT be happy to learn you've taken them off land and reduced them to the roles of little sculpted boys who pee. They will get revenge. There's not a big enough boat to save you.

LOVE YOU, SHARKS!


I also spotted this while looking for a bathroom in a gallery. I almost emptied my bladder on the spot.

ADOPT YOU? I don't even like looking at you while I write about you! I don't know if this artist was never allowed to play with dolls or ONLY played with dolls, but these little "works of art" are a big, fat cry for therapy. I've actually had this nightmare before. The dolls come to life after dark and they cry and say, "Mama." Then, when I'm trying to figure out if I can make the jump from my bed to the doorway to escape (because it would be crazy to just get out of bed so the super mean dolls can grab my feet, pull me under the bed and kill me), the dolls start to walk and reach for me. I always wake up at that point. I don't know why that dream scares me. I don't have dolls. But I do have a cat who I'm pretty sure wants to kill and eat me. That's a whole other post unrelated to art.

Here's something I can support.

There is NO way Mickey Mouse is still alive. I firmly believe he's just bones but still offering up smiles. Unless Walt Disney froze him, too. How you freeze a cartoon - other than pressing pause on your DVD - is the kind of science I don't get.

I also like this Mickey's cowboy boots and spurs. I suppose a cowboy hat over those ears would be too much to ask? You can totally tell this artist is playing to Texans. Notice how his four fingers are shaped like guns? And he seems to like it. YEEHAW, Y'ALL!

I'm not sure what's happening with his shadow. I've never seen a cowboy mouse skeleton before, so that could be normal.

UNRELATED: Have you ever noticed that skeletons tend to have a lot of their teeth but when you see people who look like they're walking dead they don't have all their teeth? What's that about?

I know art is all in the eye of the beholder, but I have beholden some things that make me think crazy people are just crafty and someone supervising them realizes other crazy people will be all, "OOOOH! I have to have that for my collection!" Since I can take a few pictures and walk away, I'm taking that as a sign I'm not crazy. Well, not THAT crazy.
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