While walking the aisles of my local art store, I struggled to remember all the many rules of choosing a suitable work of art for home display. I seem to recall hearing that one should never pick something strictly on the basis of its size or its colouring as it should complement the décor and not just blend in and fill space. As for other rules, I wasn't sure.
I felt the weight of certain defeat about to weary and bow my shoulders as I arrived at the end of the last aisle with no prospects. As I was about to turn and go, I heard a sound. Looking up, there it was, a fine piece of art almost missed and speaking directly to me. And do you know what it said? Dale, look at me, am I not exactly the right size and perfect colour to match your scheme? Yes, yes you are. And so it was mine as it was always meant. I mean really, how often does one find a talking piece of art?
It was an old newspaper illustration framed and entitled A Tug of War. Pictured was a kindly gentleman, engaging in a genteel tug of war with laughing children in a garden and oh look, a spirited dog is joining in on the fun. What a sweet scene, adorable and happy children, a frisky pup. What fun.
A day that had begun under a dark cloud brightened with the blush of satisfaction over a completeness I hadn't expected. With my treasure freshly coaxed to it’s new place of distinction, I rewarded myself with a little roast duck and a Burgundian pinot noir. As I relaxed and savoured the earthy flavours and the moment, from som
ewhere near by, I heard a dog bark.
27 comments:
Wow. On top of everything else, you have really fabulous taste.
Kindly gentleman, did you also hear the giggle of young children? (Note the post-Uncle Bob sucking up, my dear Canadian friend, one whom I admire and try to emulate.)
Oh you wouldn't believe the magical and wondrous taste I have Holly.
If you're trying to emulate me Beth, I'm worried. I'm even more alarmed if you're trying to emulate Uncle Bob.
Sounds like a Reader's Digest story...
Once I read a story in that little rag that freaked the crap out of me. It was a story how this guy was using the john in a submarine and he flushed the toliet at the same time they released some sort of pressure valve. His intestines were pulled right out of his body and he wrestled them out of the toliet and against the pressure of them being sucked into the ocean. He barely made it- it was a gruesome story...
Your story is not really related.... But thought I would share...
And that sounds like the start of Chuck Palahniuk's Haunted Shroomy. The not feel good story of the year. You sharing is something I live for and fear.
Speaking of stories, this post had an Edgar Allan Poe feel to it, Dale. I thought perhaps the dog in the painting was going to croak "nevermore" or something.
Interesting thought Chelene. I think because I've been watching English comedy, I was probably going for a stuffy Brit kind of feel. I actually changed it a lot as I was writing it. I should maybe post a picture of the picture.
Don't get me wrong, I loved the post. But if the dog had jumped from the print and bargained for your very soul I would not have been surprised. And yes, a picture of the picture would be super!
There you go Chelene, sorry about the odd angle, the glass would have glared.
I really liked your comment. Beware, the dog may show up somewhere else down the line. Better get that light bulb changed!
I am partial to the "art of war" myself. Nice. It makes me hungry.
Very classy, my friend.
Also a little spooky, in a Twilight Zone kind of way, should the dog and kids get bored and start raiding your fridge.
I really thought you were a stuffy brit when I read that.
Success!
You have deceived a stuffy brit!
I'm always hungry for something S.O. so war's as good a meal as any. Thanks.
Mob - I only wear my smoking jacket while writing and / or being spooky. Rest of the time I'm scratching my ass along with the rest of the world.
Now I won't be able to open the fridge for fear of finding tracks in the butter.
I retired for the evening right before you posted the pic. It was worth the wait. I really like it, Dale.
I used to wonder why Family Circus was still so heavily published. Now I know why.
Ultra -- thanks so much for not saying get stuffed or stuffy twit. You truly are a Toast Mosha God. And a stuffy Brit.
Thanks Chelene, it's actually nicer than it looks there although you can see it in a larger format if you click on it.
Alright Just A Cruel Cat -- I can take being compared to a Reader's Digest story, Poe, the T. Zone but Family Circus???!!!!! I'm so......honoured. Thank you. I'll get you. Was it the tracks all over the butter that did it?
Damnit, I knew the Family Circus was going too far.
Remind me to stay off of trains.
But it's so ew.
One of my hundreds of favourite songs is called Something About Trains by Jane Siberry Coolcat. Don't stay off them on my account.
If you say it's ew, then it's ew Winter.
I've never gone shopping for art. I like how you refer to an "art store." All the art I have has been given to me. Which means I'm letting friends and relatives make my decorating choices. As long as they don't charge me, I guess it's fine.
Roast duck, good. Pinot noir, good.
Paintings that beg you to take them home?
Priceless.
Coaster! You live! I didn't know what to say there. It was actually an antiques consignment shop. I would like to adopt your friends for a while then, there's a couple of trouble spots I could use free art to fix.
What was I to do X. Dell? Pick sides and join the war? They made me do it and so far, no regrets but for a bit of noise.
Yes, I'm alive. Still have a few brain cells left, but I'm working on killing those off too.
You keep inspiring new posts over at CPW. Today you inspired me to write about Jane Siberry.
Yes Dale, I have to be honest. I don't like it.
Coaster - She used to be a waitress, she wrote a song about it. It's called Waitress. I spoke to her once after a show and said 'I bet you were a really good waitress'. She said 'Actually I was terrible, I could never make change' and then she made perfect change for my friend who was buying her record. And now she's changed her name. Weird.
How Winter kills. I think it's nicer head on and in person but I couldn't get a good shot of it. But hey, it's not for everyone. I respect you telling me honestly. And now I'm going to cry. And sic that dog on you.
I think that man has devious plans in store for those children. Can't you just hear him saying afterward, "Oh, what splendid fun that was! Now who wants me to bounce them on my knee?"
Uh oh, I wondered if anyone would draw that conclusion Blog P. Oh wait, I bought the next panel too and it says...oh shit, I'm selling them back.
Post a Comment