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!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Under My Closet, A Pointiallist Masterpiece
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3 comments:
Checked again to see if the Tiki got moved again. Any news on that?
Hope all of you are well and looking forward to Christmas! Are you staying up north? It is SO cold in Nebraska this week!!!
I haven't been to Mr. Tiki's neighborhood in a while, but I should be in that part of town today - I'll see what I can find out!
Last time I saw Mr. Tiki, he was in a sorry state. My camera is no longer working, so I couldn't document the encounter, but I can report that he had collapsed in the yard, coated with a crust of filthy ice, and surrounded by discarded beer bottles. It must have been quite a party. We'll see if he recovers in Spring, but he's clearly having a difficult winter.
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