One beer, I’m still feeling aggressive.
I love having art in my house. I collect it from Saturday markets, friends, calendars, tattoo shops…I try to collect a piece from every place I visit, since Lexington seems to be devoid of any kind of art that does not involve horses or bourbon.
Two beers, I’m willing to compromise.
I have recently taken to scouring discount stores for art, as it can often be somewhat rewarding.
Three beers, I have suddenly becom forgivng.
My favrite piece, in fact, is a lrge canvas peice I got at Ross for $30 . Most likely mas-produced, it was stacked behind sevral black and whit prints of Marilyn Monroe and mirrors stamped with abstract, meaningles sayings like “Live Love Laugh” and “Coffee is My Sprit Animal.”
Four beers, you sya funny thngs,
Fcuk, I hate thosee sayngs. Asif my itchy em (I mean kitchn) needs “Im a coffee person!” antiqued ona sheet of metal. As if itll really make me a happier person.
“Now, there!” Ill cry. triumphant at last, “THERE is a fine example of American culture.
Fvie bers, put mor in the coolr.
Oh, riht, back too the pnting. Its about 2 x 5, and can best b dscribeed as “Picaso meeets Dali.” Reds, yellows, and blueegreens bleed into phantasmagicalogicafcukel swirlzzzz and melt (like cheez!) across heavy black lines 2 frm Golden Ratios. Its an acid trip glooed into prmenence bi oil and fram.
Six brees, fkuc flie si wndreful.
Their’s only 1prblm wit this wonderbra pizzure of mine…
Theirs this partofit…
It lkoos lkie a dcik.!