Tuesday, January 13, 2009

VINCENT VAN GOGH's YELLOW HOUSE

IT'S TOO LATE TO LOOK FOR VAN GOGH'S EAR...

By Robert L. Huffstutter

You know it's time to start painting again when you begin seeing images with black lines around them, waiting for you to add color to make them complete. Is it a primal desire or only a wish we were young enough to get out the crayons and start in on an already created image in outline form of a mouse or a pirate, making the hat a solid purple and the mouse a bright pink instead of the standard dull gray or brown? Yes. Yes to all of the questions about art. Art is part of our primordial psyche. If we were created in the image of our Creator, is it not only natural for us to want to create an image of something our Creator created? There, now that I have explained and outlined the complete history of portrait painting, landscape painting, nature painting and other related scapes, there will be someone who will ask about cartoons or religious scapes. That's the way it was in Art 101 then...and it remains the same today. Professor Knowitall, where do cartoons fit into this concise little Judeao-Christian history of art you are disseminating?
"Shut up and go sit at the back of the class," I might think, but of course I won't. It is a legitimate question that can be answered with brevity. "It is called humor, Aaron, okay? You know, you probably watched enough cartoons on Saturday mornings between the ages of two to twelve, however, that you might have used up all your humor."
Not a good thing to say to anyone, really, but do we ever run out of humor? Can we laugh too much? As I ponder this question, I look at the headlines and realize in an instant that we are living in a time that will not be remembered as the "laughing generation." And that's too bad. Bombs are not funny; wars are not funny. Crimes are absent of all humor. Maybe we need to laugh more. We might choose to laugh at the fuss the government is making over Washington's madam of erotic fantasy escorts service. If the men who used those services needed to get their minds off of demolition through aircraft collisions into buildings and mass murder, perhaps there was a shortage of escorts.building blown up by those who had no sense of humor; maybe these men and women who dialed up a fantasy just needed to escape for awhile. Sure, they could have prayed, but not everyone finds solace in prayer; sure, they could have gone to a comedy, but maybe they needed something more intense than light chuckles. So, why is the government so determined to go after the madam when they could be exerting the same energy in pursuing mad men? How did I get from coloring books to alleged prostitution in so short a time? I am a victim of my own mind, absorbing too much of the world around me. I should have been born in the mid 1800s, lived on the left bank and been a friend of Vincent Van Gogh. But he was rumored to have been a madman, so art might not be the subject to study afterall.

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My dad's dad, my grandfather, was nine years old when President Lincoln died from an assassin's bullet. Most people think I am speaking of my GREAT GRANDFATHER. NO, I am referring to my dad's father, my paternal Grandfather, Robert Levi Huffstutter, born in 1856. What does this information have to do with my profile? It might help the reader understand that I have a sense of being much older than I am in that only one generation seperates me from President Lincoln. This causes me to respond differently to society and many current events. In many respects, this is to my benefit, in other respects it dates my mindset. Perhaps this is the reason I value the moral standards and idealogies of older Americans, the men who were the soldiers and sailors I saw when I was a small boy,the men and women who fought a war for freedom without any doubts posted by a media with a questionable lack of national unity and purpose.