One of the most common questions I've never been I'm asked is, "What kind of art do you enjoy?" My goodness, what a complicated question! Generally speaking, my taste in art runs in the vein of the contemporary. Oh sure, DaVinci was alright I guess, considering he was designing bicycles, gyroscopes, or whatever the hell else in his spare time. Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel isn't too bad, although every time I see it I think God is suggesting that Adam pull his finger. I guess fart humor really is timeless after all.
The first time The Mister and I went to Australia we spent a day at the Sydney art museum. There was a shitload of great art, but when my husband saw some works by Brett Whiteley he almost wet himself. We bought a couple Whiteley prints and had them framed. This one is in our dining room, and this one hangs over our mantle. The internet pictures don't do them justice; they are truly spectacular works of art.
The rest of the pictures I have are family antiques and are exceptionally proper and rather fussy, because my ancestors were tall on money and short on taste. (I am totally getting haunted for that.) The family art is comfortably resting in the basement, where the pictures of Old World ships, pilgrims, and sleighs will stay until I can pawn them off on distant cousins. Or sell them on Ebay.
One of my favorite images of all time is this Wegman photo, but it's damn hard to integrate a Weimaraner lounging in a metal chair into your home decor. Better Homes and Gardens doesn't have a section on this shit. Which is unfortunate, because you just try to tell me this isn't one of the coolest photographs you've ever seen in your life:
I've long since given up on having a magazine cover home, though. Which is probably why this large, framed print is prominently displayed in our house:
Anything that uses the word "hosed" is my idea of great art. I'm totally sophisticated that way.
The first time The Mister and I went to Australia we spent a day at the Sydney art museum. There was a shitload of great art, but when my husband saw some works by Brett Whiteley he almost wet himself. We bought a couple Whiteley prints and had them framed. This one is in our dining room, and this one hangs over our mantle. The internet pictures don't do them justice; they are truly spectacular works of art.
The rest of the pictures I have are family antiques and are exceptionally proper and rather fussy, because my ancestors were tall on money and short on taste. (I am totally getting haunted for that.) The family art is comfortably resting in the basement, where the pictures of Old World ships, pilgrims, and sleighs will stay until I can pawn them off on distant cousins. Or sell them on Ebay.
One of my favorite images of all time is this Wegman photo, but it's damn hard to integrate a Weimaraner lounging in a metal chair into your home decor. Better Homes and Gardens doesn't have a section on this shit. Which is unfortunate, because you just try to tell me this isn't one of the coolest photographs you've ever seen in your life:
I've long since given up on having a magazine cover home, though. Which is probably why this large, framed print is prominently displayed in our house:
Anything that uses the word "hosed" is my idea of great art. I'm totally sophisticated that way.
1 Comments:
Your comment over at MCB made me laugh so I had to drop by. Love the pic of the dog, BTW.
Mack
Post a Comment
<< Home