The Elephant Man

"OMIGOD!!!! BOB!!!! LOOK AT THIS!!!!"

We'd been watching a movie on the teevee, probably something from the film noir genre that has recently captivated us, and she'd been munching on a fresh bowl of popcorn. An outburst of this sort from The Artist is a sign that her creative radar has just scanned a target.

"Quick", she said... "tell me what this looks like to you."

I joined her on the couch and stared down at the piece of popcorn in her hand. It had an unusual shape but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. She saw the questioning look on my face and said "It's the head of an elephant, you dummy. Can't you see it?"

Once she said that, it was clear what she'd seen in that popped kernel of corn that almost made in into her mouth. Yep... two obvious large flappy ears, a truncated trunk and elephant-ish head. An elephant!

"I'm gonna create an art project around it", she declared. "I can make a new shadow box or framed piece. It'll be cool!"

I'm used to this by now. She can see art potential in almost anything, which sets her mind into overdrive to figure out exactly how the project will be developed. She's the only person I know who can walk down an aisle at The Home Depot and point out potential art projects made from miscellaneous hardware items... ON EVERY AISLE.

The Quest Begins.

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Art is a very subjective thing.

Throughout human history, great art is considered crap by some and crappy art is lauded by others. Every true artist understands this brutal fact and lives with the constant realization that no matter how much creative effort they invest in their medium of choice, it will likely as not be met with criticism and derision.

Vincent Van Gogh didn't sell a single painting until the final year of his life. Claude Monet's early attempts at the new style of art known as 'Impressionism' were laughed at and derided as crap when shown at a Paris salon in 1874. It took another two decades before his brilliant talent was finally... finally... recognized.

Claude. Monet.

All artists carry the burden of rejection with them like a gunny sack tossed over their shoulder, filled with negative comments and misinterpretations of their work. Doesn't matter if the medium is paint, granite, ink on paper, music, dance, glass, macaroni, recycled cardboard, plastic flatware or dryer lint. 

The artist's vision knows no bounds except the limitations of their chosen medium. However, their creative output is often limited by society's insatiable need to equate art with a monetary value before it's valued at all.

That's why the vast majority of artists never sell a damned thing, yet they continue to create what they see in their mind's eye. They're driven to do so... it's an almost uncontrollable desire.

It's also why so many artists, after failing to recreate the perfection their mind's eye has seen, suffer from anxiety and depression and occasionally remove themselves from this mortal coil.

Creativity as a crucifix... self-nailing, too!

The amazing woman in my life, referred to here as The Artist, has lived with this burning creativity her entire life. She too carries a gunny sack filled with the veiled criticism and constant rejection of her work. For over three decades, I've witnessed the struggle to realize her passion and become a working artist who actually sells her art, and she's finally achieved that hard-sought goal.

Although she creates commissioned art like a Boss, her personal output isn't for everyone (nor should any art be!) due mostly to the fact that she's semi-demented and has a wonderfully weird sense of humor.

Like all artists, she sees things the rest of us 'normies' don't. That's why she RULES.

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The next day, she had a vision.

"It's 'The Elephant Man'! I'll make a small shadow box using the popcorn as the head and paint the background to match."

My mind began to reel with the myriad possibilities. The misshapen popcorn head did indeed look like an elephant and the unfortunate real-life Joseph Merrick, but I was wary about how it might be perceived or if people would actually understand the reference.

"It'll have to be kind of a small piece", she said. "I'll make sure the head isn't overwhelmed by the size of the box or frame or the background painting."

That same morning, she established it would be a shadow box so a shopping trip was planned to the local craft stores to find what she was looking for. This was a regular occurrence: once the vision is revealed, the challenge is bringing it to reality with exactly the right materials. 

She closely examined the popcorn elephant head. "This thing is pretty delicate. I'll bet it'll fall apart once it dries out, so I'll apply some kind of sealer or coating to make sure it stays in one piece."

I agreed that was probably a good idea and didn't give it a second thought. She's really good with paints and sealers and uses them with discretion. A few minutes later, I heard a terrible sound:

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS HAPPENED!!!!!!"

I raced through the house to her studio. She was standing there, head down, obviously dejected, and held up the popcorn elephant head for me to look at.

Only it wasn't a popcorn elephant head any more, just a small shriveled-up food bit. The chemical sealer she'd applied reacted to the popcorn and shrunk it down into an unrecognizable mass.

"My Elephant Man... GONE!" she wailed.

"I'm sorry", I said... "I should have considered what the chemical sealer would do to that organic popcorn."

She sat down, her head still down, shoulders sagging. "Gawd, that head was perfect and I'll never ever find another one like it."

I offered to make some more popcorn, but her massive artist brain was already in overdrive. She was on fire.

"No, this is still a project I can do, just without the popcorn head, which was cool and unusual but the damage would have happened eventually anyways. I can make the head out of something else."

That something else turned out to be paper, a medium she's used for many singular art pieces that have been sold to discriminating clients who love her work and bent perspective. We did our craft store scavenger hunt and found a perfectly sized square wood tray with angled sides to make it a suitable shadow box.

SCORE!

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It happens at every art show where we set up the Misguided Designs display booth. We see four kinds of people:

#1 -- People who casually walk by the booth, barely glancing our way without stopping to look at anything.

#2 -- People who walk by the booth, stop directly in front but don't step in under the canopy. They look inside, grimace with displeasure and continue on.

#3 -- People who walk into the booth, slowly scan the artwork on display and leave without saying a word.

#4 -- People who walk into the booth, start looking at the art on display and say "Omigod... I love this work!" or "This is the best booth in the show, thanks for being here!" or "Hold on... I gotta get someone over here right away to see this!" or "Where in the world did you get the idea for that?". These people linger under the canopy looking at everything, talk with others about how much they enjoy the work, buy one or more pieces and/or talk to The Artist about a special order or commission. Handshakes and hugs, warm fuzzies, money in the till.

The Artist creates art for herself and for the #4 people... the ones who have an alternative sense of humor, who see things others don't, who appreciate a slightly bent perspective, who aren't afraid to laugh out loud over a piece that cracks them up.

The rest of them?  They'll catch on eventually... or maybe never.

Not all art is for everyone, nor should it be.

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In the end, 'The Elephant Man' came out really cool, yet another in a line of Misguided Designs mixed-media pieces made from wood, paint and paper.  Sadly, no popcorn was used in the fabrication of this one-of-a-kind art piece.

The greatest joy of my life is being married to The Artist. Though her creative quests, our lives are filled with amazing music and film and art and food, all the things that inspire and intoxicate us with an overwhelming love of life.

Several years ago, we had the chance to take our teenage Niece to visit the L.A. County Museum of Art (LACMA), a very special occasion since she'd never been inside a museum before.

In addition to exhibits revolving around the films of Stanley Kubrick and a display of mid-century modern furniture and sculpture, she had the chance to experience 'Levitated Mass', the massive 240-ton boulder exhibit that allows you to walk underneath it.

The best part of the day? It was watching her walk around LACMA with her jaw perpetually dropped after viewing one incredible exhibit after another. She was experiencing art at its finest for the first time, and it was our way of gifting her with the reality and purpose of art in every medium.

Meaningful art will always elicit an emotional response, whether positive or negative. Dealing with that response is another matter entirely.

Support artists of every type as much as you can. Attend art shows and boutiques and don't be afraid of looking at everything.  Ask questions about what you see... artists love sharing their creative vision with others. You never really know what kind of art will smack you between the eyes and make your jaw drop and the money fly out of your hands.

Don't fear art... embrace it with the zest in which it was created. You won't always 'get it' but that's not really the point. Creative output gives us all a fleeting glimpse into the heart and soul of the person who dragged it out of their psyche and made it real.

As The Artist likes to say:

"I don't dream in color... I dream about color."

Click on this link to see more 'Misguided Designs'.

Lead image, Gracias de Google Images; 'Levitated Mass' image, Gracias de LACMA; Don McLean 'Vincent' video, Muchismas Gracias de YouTube.

"That Is Not My Dog."

I like dogs. Dogs are cool.  

For some reason, dogs are generally drawn to me in a way which can surprise their owners.

"Wow", they'll say... "Spartacus normally doesn't like ANYONE but he seemed to like you enough not to rip you to shreds when you tried to pet him!"

Thanks, Spartacus.

I mention this up front because my next statement tends to piss off dog owners: I really really DO NOT like it when people bring their dogs into places where I'm shopping. This has become a real issue with me lately, and dog owners are aghast and offended when I say how much I wish they'd left Spartacus (or Muffy or Champ or Weensie) at home or in the car instead of dragging them into the store where I'm at.

I remember about fifteen years ago when this phenomenon first became visible here in Orange County (CA) at a notoriously high-end outdoor shopping mall in Newport Beach. First one store, then another and another, starting putting out bowls of water for animals being walked by their owners.

OK, fine... that seems reasonable for the pet owners walking their expensive purebred hounds at an outdoor mall. 

Over time, the water bowls were placed inside the store entrances as a way to get the owners inside the store.  Then all of a sudden, people were bringing their dogs with them while they shopped.

I was horrified at this turn of events.

When did it become OK for people to bring dogs into stores? Once again, I understand a retail shop trying to get customers with dogs into the store, but what about the rest of us?

I'm standing in the 'Just Socks' aisle looking for some wool lederhosen and in you walk with your Doberman (or Chihuahua or Dachshund) on a leash, oblivious to the fact that I may not like dogs or may be allergic to dogs or, even worse, that you dog may not like me or my smell.

I don't know you or your dog, and your dog certainly doesn't know me. What makes you think your dog won't walk by me, dislike something about my clothing or scent or proximity, freak out and bite me?

You don't know and you won't be able to stop them. And that's the problem.

Oh sure... Muffy would NEEEEVER bite someone! She's a good dog!

But Muffy is a dog, and sometimes dogs simply don't like someone and if that person is close enough, the biting begins.



While working my part-time Lot Geek gig at The Home Depot, I notice that many customers bring their dogs of all sizes into the store, which the store seems to be OK with. What gets me are those who put dogs into the shopping baskets, with some actually putting a blanket or dog bed into the basket and then placing Weensie in there too.

If there was ever a reason to regularly disinfect shopping baskets, dog blankets/beds/ass would be one of them

So... OK, I get it.  People love their dogs and take them almost everywhere. But dogs aren't universally loving of other humans, and sometimes they'll chomp down on an unsuspecting human's hand and then a very awkward situation begins. That's because they're DOGS. 

I use the 'dog bites man for no apparent reason' example to highlight the fact that sometimes, humans react to other humans just like dogs do (heh heh heh... dog doo... get it?).

Sometimes, a human simply does not like another human, and for no apparent reason. I recently came face-to-face with this situation in the office where I worked for eight months before getting laid off due to a business downturn.

I'd only been working there a few weeks when they hired a guy temporarily to be our truck driver. He was the future son-in-law of the company CFO and was living with his fiancee' in the CFO's home. The guy had been chronically unemployed, having been fired from a local petting zoo, Home Depot and Disneyland (I swear this is true).

When we initially engaged, he seemed strangely quiet and standoffish, which the CFO said was his normal M.O. as he was very shy and reserved.

However, after a few weeks of putting on my best 'supportive co-worker' face, he wouldn't speak to me and was becoming uncooperative and antagonistic, not consulting me on projects that were my responsibility and going instead to his future Mother-in-law (FMIL) for guidance.

The guy simply did not like me. No reason, no rationale... he never spoke to me. Somehow he'd decided I was the enemy and he would refuse to engage or even acknowledge my existence. The kidz call that 'cancelling out' or 'ghosting' someone... he'd walk in and I'd say "Good Morning" and he'd walk right by, looking straight ahead, ignoring my greeting as if I was invisible.

Very weird.

Then one morning, our off-site Office Manager (I know, I know) requested that I inspect the day's deliveries once the driver had loaded the truck because there'd been 'problems'. I asked the driver to please delay his departure until I had a chance to review the load. 

He went berserk.

He started yelling that there was no reason for me to check his load, and when I told him I was only following orders, he called me a liar. When I climbed up into the truck to begin the inspection, he screamed:

"I DON'T LIKE YOU!! I DON'T LIKE WORKING WITH YOU!! I HATE YOU!! I DON'T RESPECT YOU!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"

I asked him please to tell me why he felt that way. Instead of answering, he raced back into the office to complain to his FMIL. I finished my inspection, went inside and while he was complaining away, told him the load looked great and thanks for waiting. He glared at me and left without a word.

A few minutes later, I went in and explained to the CFO what had happened and that I had tried everything possible to engage with the driver.  She said it was inexplicable and that she'd try to reason with him.

That's the last time she ever mentioned it.

Over the final months I spent employed there, the driver's immature behavior caused us all lots of extra work and effort because he refused to follow office protocol for documentation and reporting. His behavior only got worse, so when we lost a million-dollar client and I was told I'd be laid off, I was actually very relieved.

I'll bet he's still working there, also too.

Because I have lots of miles on my odometer, I never once sank to his level of behavior, antagonism or immaturity. I never yelled at or argued with him, was always upbeat and supportive, and did my level-best to make the best of a horrific situation. In the end, it didn't matter but at least I KNOW that I tried, dammit... at least I tried.

What DID bother me was that never... not even once... in my professional career had I encountered a negative co-worker situation that I wasn't able to diffuse and turn around. In fact, I've had the ability to gain the trust of co-workers who were otherwise reviled by everyone else, a gift that I've always been thankful for.

Our current National 2020 Viral Semi-Apocalypse is creating a shit-ton of misery for most regular 'Murricans. One positive side-effect is that for the most part, people standing in lines to buy toilet paper are in upbeat moods, open and talkative across the 6-foot 'social-distancing prerogative', and exuding the classic 'We're all in this together' spirit that gives me faith in human nature.

I know there have been reports of clashes in cues and guns drawn over who gets the last of the Charmin, but overall we hoomans are getting along pretty damned good, helping others in need and lifting each other up when necessary.

We can continue biting each other later... for now, I'll pet Spartacus without fear and be grateful for a shelf full of butt-wipe.

"A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort." -- Herm Albright



Lead image, Gracias de Google Images; 'Inspector Clouseau' and 'The Stooges' videos, Muchismas Gracias de YouTube.