LM–can you draw me? I don’t wear glasses or bows, have shoulder length blonde curly-ish hair, and blue eyes. I’m a nurse studying to be a librarian.
Does that help?
True artists draw commissions (don’t hurt me for the pun). You are on your way to FAME!
I have it all worked out in my mind grapes. I’ll do this at work while avoiding my pocket-sized British boss. [hate]
As corny as it is, I would choose to be immortalized as an lolcat .
and you’re not.
Are you sure the vet wasn’t a Tranh-sexual? It’s hard to be sure, especially with Vietnam vets.
I’m gonna look like grapes?!?
:eek:
(and the pocket-sized British boss sounds vaguely dirty to me–like a pocket Venus with a sweater–I mean, jumper–on). Heh.
Here you go, bitch!
Why is there a severed head in the wastebasket? Does this library have really strict late return policies?
I think the trash can is a severed head.
fools!
I think the better question is why the lonely people??
Where do they all belong?
Did you not see the distorted perspective on the cylinder or note the fact that the smiley face does not curve around with the can but is instead superposed on top? Clearly, lobstermobster is toying with our preconceived notions of space and opacity which still making a commentary on the decreasing level of intellectualism in our generation’s public libraries. Also at play is the integration of the cross with the door, a statement against the increasing role of religion in public life. Perhaps most striking, though, is the fact that the protagonist appears happy, but is counterpointed with legions of lonely people, who undoubtably represent the overall hostility and isolation that such volatile influences like religion and politics have on us as a society, ultimately alienating from each other and indeed ourselves.
Also, she misspelled “library”.
no I didn’t. Its liberry
I bet nobody ever asked Grandma Moses if she could spell “library”. Elitist.
And now a wry commentary on the malleability of language in a post-Internet world! It’s a rare artist who can move so fluidly between media. I salute you.
The OP reminds me of any one of a hundred nights I spent in Joe’s Bar on Back Street in St. Thomas back in the 70s: Hairspray Tom, Gar, Jackie the Bunny, Nicki, BJ the dynamiter, Moira, Margie Creque (aka Psycho Bitch), LD and Francis to name a few. What a collection of misfits, and what weird and wonderful nights. I wrote about it with the idea of submitting it somewhere, then realized it sounded almost exactly like a book I had read, but can’t remember the author or the name of the book; except mine was from actual experience and the book was fiction.
Fucking Yelpers.
What the hell is Margtown?
This whole thread is a whoosh, right? Or a big troll post? Why is it in the pit?
Because if not whoosh or troll, I can safely say I hate the OP and her stupid attempt at art.
There, now you can say you’ve been two places where people feel free to say they hate you.
yayyyy! I feel like this is a SDMB rite of passage!
p.s. where is Eleanor Riggles? I need her thoughts
That’s just what they said about VanGogh.
