Today at work one of our construction guys came by my desk with a window frame (sans glass) with a shutter attached. "Want it?" he said, knowing full well I love garbage like that. I always get really inspired by things like carpet samples and laminate submittals. I'm convinced there's something artistically brilliant I can do with these things, and so I bring them home, store them away, and promptly forget about their existence, never to be touched again. This window frame was no exception. I envisioned a painting behind the shutter, maybe a mountain range, or a 'naked guy across the street' or some other such inspired scenery, the treasure only to be revealed upon opening the mysterious door...I envisioned using it as a grand, overly dramatic picture frame for a photo I would take and want to develop that size. And so I lugged this frame on the bus, this huge window with this huge shutter, and I had a (rare) flash of insight: YOU ARE NOT GOING TO USE THIS. Then I had another moment of insight: BUT YOUR LOCAL ART STUDIO WILL.
You see, there's a new art studio in my neighborhood, just down the block. It's a co-op and each artist rents a part of the studio and not only is it a place where art is created, but also where it is displayed. They throw wild parties that cause all the hipsters in the neighborhood to crawl out of the woodwork with their greasy hair and messenger bags and tight tees, and the artists no doubt don't sell a thing. But despite the fact that it may not be a financial success, it's a great concept, the artists are charming and approachable, and it's really bringing the neighborhood together in a new and fun way.
So I decide to do my part, make my contribution. And while I may not be willing to throw down hundreds of dollars for a painting of an alien crawling through metal bars, I am willing to donate supplies like shuttered window frames when they fall into my lap, all for the greater artistic good and with the knowledge that such a brilliant treasure will not go unused in the right hands.
So I get off the bus, and there are a handful of the artists on their mini-stoop smoking ciggies, looking like so many Ponyboys and Sodapops, and there is the usual handful of giggly girls with swooped bangs and dark eyeliner, pretending not to be giggly girls, and I bumble my way in, holding this increasingly-heavy frame, not the picture of cool with my work pants and washed hair: "Does anybody want this?"
I was almost trampled to death. The excitement in the air was palpable as they all grabbed and reached and dreamed. (The girls scattered instantly.) It was like I was offering them the holy grail of artistic possibility. One artist took first dibs on it almost immediately, under the justification that at their opening party I bought a stuffed animal he made for ten dollars and that means we are friends. I personally didn't mind either way, and his starry eyes made it all worthwhile...He was so gratified I worried for a moment that he was going to embrace me or kiss my feet or offer me his firstborn child. I imagine this is how good charity feels, although I'm too lazy with my time to really find out.
They're having their next party on the 18th (b.y.o.brownbag, if you're around and interested). I hope he's done something with it by then as I would love to see where it ends up. If it turns into something that doesn't make me want to slit my wrists, then I'll photograph it and post it here.
You see, there's a new art studio in my neighborhood, just down the block. It's a co-op and each artist rents a part of the studio and not only is it a place where art is created, but also where it is displayed. They throw wild parties that cause all the hipsters in the neighborhood to crawl out of the woodwork with their greasy hair and messenger bags and tight tees, and the artists no doubt don't sell a thing. But despite the fact that it may not be a financial success, it's a great concept, the artists are charming and approachable, and it's really bringing the neighborhood together in a new and fun way.
So I decide to do my part, make my contribution. And while I may not be willing to throw down hundreds of dollars for a painting of an alien crawling through metal bars, I am willing to donate supplies like shuttered window frames when they fall into my lap, all for the greater artistic good and with the knowledge that such a brilliant treasure will not go unused in the right hands.
So I get off the bus, and there are a handful of the artists on their mini-stoop smoking ciggies, looking like so many Ponyboys and Sodapops, and there is the usual handful of giggly girls with swooped bangs and dark eyeliner, pretending not to be giggly girls, and I bumble my way in, holding this increasingly-heavy frame, not the picture of cool with my work pants and washed hair: "Does anybody want this?"
I was almost trampled to death. The excitement in the air was palpable as they all grabbed and reached and dreamed. (The girls scattered instantly.) It was like I was offering them the holy grail of artistic possibility. One artist took first dibs on it almost immediately, under the justification that at their opening party I bought a stuffed animal he made for ten dollars and that means we are friends. I personally didn't mind either way, and his starry eyes made it all worthwhile...He was so gratified I worried for a moment that he was going to embrace me or kiss my feet or offer me his firstborn child. I imagine this is how good charity feels, although I'm too lazy with my time to really find out.
They're having their next party on the 18th (b.y.o.brownbag, if you're around and interested). I hope he's done something with it by then as I would love to see where it ends up. If it turns into something that doesn't make me want to slit my wrists, then I'll photograph it and post it here.
4 comments:
I want to go. :(
awesome! that was a good idea!
ps: how are you?
Hey! This is Gwen's hubby -- David. Just thought I'd pop in and say hello...
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