Category: art

Overflow

Not that we don’t have enough problems, but it is now Hurricane Season. Covid causes death, despair and disease. Rain and wind destructs, demolishes and decimates. Any way you look at it, society gets eradicated in an unpleasant way.

The canals await the rainfall, already over their early June limit. Deadly frogs live around them. Lizards and geckos which didn’t die due to climate change (no cold spell) abound and there is no species to eat them or drive them away. Unbelievers continue to ignore the signs, partying on the beaches and in the clubs. Well, so-be-it.

Boca Museum Reopens

 

We went to the early opening for members, but the power was out due to a thunder storm. Felt normal being able to visit a cultural institution in the midst of Corona and Black Lives Matter. We even dressed for the date.


We returned the next day. Only a few people present. Museum show featured Self-Portraits from the National Gallery and prints by Steichen. We dressed again.

I got to see a Chuck Close, one of my favorites and pose with him. Too complicated to explain here.

But Steichen will always be the start, the greatest portraitist of the 20th Century. He invented it. Here is a self-portrait where he photographs himself as a painter. He preferred photography and destroyed many of his paintings.

 

 

 

 

Trump’s Ignorance

What a waste of a human being Donald Trump is. He still has supporters, haters all in their own little way. He wants US to die, so he and his buddies can have more and more and more and more easily recognize each other, because who remains will be white and not old.

His latest solution for a Covid-19 cure is right on your kitchen counter and can be combined with two previous suggestions. I don’t want you doing it. Maybe he will, using Jared or the Baron as test subjects.

First, write out a will using a bleach pen and write your name down on your forehead. Inhale a little in each nostril to get you going. Drink a little Fantastic, after spraying it on your clothes, removing any dirt or grease or grime you missed while washing.

Then insert the fork into your toaster.

 

What Now

Now what? I always wanted to make a contribution. Now, all I can do is survive. Can’t go out. Cannot volunteer. Don’t have all that much money to donate. I just have to not get sick, er sicker. I have been reading and writing, wondering what the meaning of life is. A lifetime learner, what will my knowledge mean to anyone other than me?

HAZARDOUS TO HEALTH

DO NOT INGEST CLOROX or RUBBING ALCOHOL or BEAMS of LIGHTThat idiot TRUMP can get US killed in so many ways that have not even been contemplated. He lies cheats and steals and fools from the South and impoverished zones who hate intelligence and feelings for others believe him. I almost wish that some of his follows would take his advice and try these cures. After all, some of them believe that GOD will save them.

Many of them dress differently so you can identify them and avoid them and their thoughts. They don’t do vaccines. Others were red hats which suggest that America was great at some unidentifiable time.

Cezanne Stieglitz and Van Gogh

My favorite artists, at least for today. Human and productive. Sensitive, maybe too much. Very much alive. Much of what I know about art comes from studying them.

Stieglitz “contributed not only scientific and artistic photographic studies, but also introduced modern art to America and furthered the theory of photography as art.” In his time, the greatest photographer living.

Van Gogh was mentally ill, an affliction that didn’t interfere with his love of color. Prolific and introspective, he cut off his ear, because of some problem he has a a bordello. He was checked into a mental hospital, got better and did a self portrait which he sent to him mother. Bold, emotional, impulsive. No mystery in his work.

Cezanne, the father of all modern art, somber tones, geometric shapes. Tried to shock the staid salon members with his nudes and ambiguous forms. Acted out. Didn’t observe the rules of human interaction or painting. Didn’t like photography, but may have used it to copy from. Preferred his studio where he could produce more orderly organized images to the outdoors. Always had a story which he didn’t tell.

Back to my work, whatever it is. Like Van Gogh and Cezanne, no one will appreciate my art during my life. Unlike them, I will have no after life. But, then, I am not them. But I will leave a few self-portrtaits just like they did.

Ron Baraz, Valencia Reserve Neighbor

I see many people walking past my house in Valencia Reserve whom I don’t know. The other night, as I looked at a full moon shining through the trees, a man walked by. Compositionally, he made the frame. Three shots. Moon moved. He moved. I needed to adjust the exposure. I got it.

What’s your name, I asked. Ronnie, I live at 9163, around the corner. Printed the image. Put in his mailbox after wiping it down with my card. He called to thank me. I don’t remember ever seeing him, other than as he drove by and he lives 4 houses away.

There may not be many positive things to say about living in lockdown.