frightened fields: Fray As Tryst

I have an obsession with anagrams and I make them in head all day as a consequence (symptom). Fray As Tryst is an anagram of Artsy Fartsy, because I've been looking at lots of photographs lately. Fray As Tryst is the three word poem of the day.

I've also been searching for ART that, in collage and construction, juxtaposes components in ways that make it seem like you're re-connecting them. Generally they fall short, but some are funny.

The pursuit of a childlike quality to expression comes across as childishness, more often than not. Sometimes I like ham-handed Basquait knock-offs, but the vast majority really can't hold my attention, much less catch my eye. The ones I like are usually funny. Not that I don't like ART that comes from a sweet place.

Shit, I can even do out-and-out cute.

Then again, I need to cleanse the palate with something creepy and vice-versa.

Maybe I'm slowly growing crazier but the strength of most images that really move me of late lies in the closeness with which the images themselves skirt the banal, pennies from another dimension.

Then some people just pump everyday feelings to such a degree, emotional ants under a microscope. When I think of New York ART, two people seem to spring to mind.

The picture of Marina Abramovic leaning back from that loaded bow just sticks in my head. She had their heartbeats mic'd and played over the speakers in the gallery, faster and louder. Gives me something akin to the heebie-jeebies.

God, where to go from Anoushka Fisz? Last I heard, she was dating the guy from The Eurythmics. Ummm, woodblock prints...

I like his intaglio stuff, but this bird reminds me of a coloring contest that I won at a local McDonald's in my youth. I got a complete set of Muppet Movie collector's glasses... collectors' (?).