I hate the guy’s pictures, so you can guess how badly I wanted to leave the show at the museum. His pictures affect me like clowns do. All the characters are suspect. The thing that is amazing is these people sat posed for hours, while he did his work.
Great great Aunt Eustasia is smiling awfully hard. I’m just sayin’.
It’s Uncle Uranus’s severed head- on a stick.
Um… maybe it’s just me… but… that bowl of fruit… does it have a baby’s head in it?
I’m going to have nightmares.
PS- Norman Rockwell gets a bad rep for being really goody-two shoes Americana. He definitely showed underside in his drawings: racism, poverty (one of my favorites ever- he took some criticism on this one, incidentally, for setting it in tenements instead of suburbia), multiculturalism, eating disorders , child mortality , inbreeding, gay youth, why one shouldn’t snitch, first abortion, aging and lesbianism, etc…
Jesus Sampiro! I just spit Coca Cola on myself, much to the entertainment of my seven year old!
Eating disorders is good…Sampiro strikes again.
There’s no way that tiny Jello is going to feed all those people.
What’s in it, anyway? It’s brown.
Relax.
It’s made with well water.
the killer awoke before dawn
“Southern Justice” is a pretty intense painting.
I’ll marry you if you’ll photoshop one of those creepy plastic touched-up glamour kids on it. (Not really.)
The old guy standing up? A ghost. Nobody can hear him as he tries to warn them about creepy guy at the bottom and his little “collection” in the basement. The very collection whose discovery resulted in the old guy becoming a ghost. Creepy guy is sharing a knowing smile with the viewer as he picks his next “trophy.” His protege, Junior at top, knows too. He’s smiling in anticipation…
I hate to say this and I’ve held back. The guy in the lower left corner looks like Ronald Reagan when he was senile.
Oh man.
There’s a print of this painting in the dining room at my place of employment. I’ll never be able to go near it again without getting hysterical.
The worst thing is that no matter what part of the room I’m in, the eyes follow me.
My little sister for the baby and the glamour kid. 
Behold my mad photoshop skillz.
Incidentally, if you thought that little girl was creepy before, just zoom in by a factor 20 or so…yeesh…
So, you want my sister to dress up like a nun or a French maid or something?
Piffle. Catholic schoolgirl or the deal’s off.
Okay, that reallyain’t right. Good thing I said I wouldn’t really marry you - my husband would be so disappointed.
He’s looking at the by then ubiquitous family photographer, played in this scene by the much less ubiquitous painter.