Tuesday, July 14, 2009
"Yeah!" by F, Salt Lake City, Utah. Crayons on yellowing parchment paper
You may have noticed the frequency of my reviews has dropped off significantly in recent weeks. Whereas this space used to be a succulent, daily helping of steak tartar, it has been reduced to a weekly scraping of burnt toast. White bread, no less. Blame yourselves, readers. I certainly blame you. When the helter-skelter scribble shown above is the most original piece of art sent my way in the last several weeks, what more can you expect? Like any artist, I crave inspiration. And with all do respect to F, his latest radiates all the inspiration of a slug on Prozac. With lines shakier than Charles Schultz nearing his end, F’s work is more pedestrian than Pollack. Random thickets of color shatter any semblance of balance and appear to serve only the pre-nap whims of a cranky youth struggling to find a unique point of view. From this critic’s vantage point, that POV better find a focal point soon or F might find himself SOL. Let this be a warning, readers: art is serious business. Playtime is over.