Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Under My Closet, A Pointiallist Masterpiece

I've discovered the genius of a lost Master, under my closet floor. On ripping out dog-haired old carpet from my oddly built-in closet, I discovered the modernist masterwork pictured at right. Judging by the picture alone, you might be persuaded that this is merely some poorly selected linoleum tile, but I assure you, it isn't. The pattern you see here appears, bafflingly, to have been painted by hand on plywood flooring. Why would someone do this? And notice that it's fairly geometrically precise. Someone spent one hell of a lot of time doing this. The work of a misunderstood genius? I was reminded of those chambers of "psychotechnic" torture utilized by anarchists during the Spanish Civil War (see http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2003/jan/27/spain.arts ). Certainly, being trapped in this closet would leave one disoriented, and ready to confess. This potential use of the room is underscored by the presence of a now obsolete lock on the closet door. But mostly I'm stunned that someone has done this intricate piece of work by hand, especially given its location on the floor of a closet. At one time, closets were rooms intended to house shrines for private worship, but what kind of ritual would entail such an artistic effort, I can only guess. Perhaps the artist himself was trapped in closet, and worked diligently to keep the madness at bay. At any rate, the madness has now been let loose, and I'll spend my nights sleeping next to it. Let the nightmares begin!

Monday, August 4, 2008

Still Alive

A quick note to say that I still exist. I've been negligent of the blog because I've just moved into Minnesota's smallest house, and its requiring no small amount of dismantling, mantling, re-mantling. I hope to be posting more soon. A couple things to look forward to (or, at least, I'll be looking forward to them):
1) I won the bet, and perhaps I'll even be staging Zukofsky in the subterranean black box
2) A pointialist masterpiece underneath my closet
3) Gallery of floor-mounted heat registers as a timeline of bad taste
4) A new wager