I always felt like Squeak was part of the primordial ooze from which Jean-Michel Basquiat sprung. I wouldn't call this the most alluring piece in her ouvre, but I certainly appreciate her talent and vision.
A lot of hard work went into that.
This post left deliberately blank.
It is my lifelong aspiration to one day be able to grub up a giant canvas and write a totally deep sentence on it. Leonardo da Vinci and all of those "painter" fucksticks just tried too hard.
Isn't that a streak of white-out below the words? This is an abridged masterpiece!
Even the moribund Mr. Poe who just turned 199 yesterday, from his brandy-soaked grave, with twisted two-centuries-old laudanum-induced thought waves, might have commanded his hound, Mr. Baskerville, to purloin better art than this from any upturned Baltimore dustbin.
damn, the spacing didn't hold on my above post...wait, now that post IS actually lame, which makes it an ironic statement, which makes it....
i could stare at this painting for hours, though, trying to imagine what was painted over.
@7: Mr. Poe is not moribund! He's still young and sexy.
But he is brandy-soaked, right?
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