Questions

I'm thinking that the name of this blog should be 'Questions', instead of Prism Trail. Because, when I start a blog, I always start out thinking that I have a cohesive story to tell. But as it turns out, I typically just have a LOT of questions. More questions than answers, as a matter of fact. That's why my other blog is now gone, because The Question Fairy was getting really exhausted. Have you ever seen an irritated fairy? It's frightening.

But, enough about you.


I know someone who made a mosaic of St. Francis of Assisi. In fact, here's a picture of it:

Very nice, oui? le tiles du mirror? le petit birdy en rose? tres bien!!

Well, after she made Frankie, it was suggested by someone that she do a mosaic series of the Saints. And that the next one she does should be St. Lucy with her eyeballs on a plate.

Now, I don't think this is right. Sure, we know St. Lucy was blind, but is it necessary to be rude about it? What's next, St. Olaf, the knife fanatic, takes his ready blade and carves Lucy's eyes out himself?

Let's say our happy mosaicist opens an Etsy shop. WHO is going to actually buy these from her Etsy shop? HUH? Who? If you have an etsy shop with a mosaic in it which shows St. Francis holding, instead of un petit birdy, a dish with a tiny St. Lucy standing in it, holding a dish with a tiny St. Olaf standing in it, reaching up with his knife and cutting out her eyeballs, then you've got problems, don't you think? Obviously, you're going to have to start screening the very people who want to buy your stuff. And how much are you going to charge for that mosaic? $100? The criminal records check alone will cost that much!! So you haven't made a profit at all, have you? HUH?!

Anyway, this blog is not about my friend's artistic pathway, which is clearly riddled with danger. This blog is about me and my work. After all, it's my blog, and I've been asked often enough what the hell's wrong with me, and I think it's time someone explained.

But. I'll ask someone to explain in another installment.

When I showed the Diana canvas to my friend the mosaicist, she was very complimentary. It was so satisfying. Finally, I thought, someone understands my work, and what I am trying to achieve in trying to express the rich layers of meaning in treasured mythological tales of heroism.

And then she said, "Hey! You should do a whole series of canvases featuring stags!!"

I don't know if art really needs to be shared. It's probably best done in secret. Perhaps with all the lights turned off.

Next up: Chris glues paint to her fingers.