Tag Archives: art

361. Masterpiece


Isabelle won the prestigious art award. Her submission was entitled Oh kinaesthetic and forever tomorrow. It was a fabulously longish title for such an original piece.

The judges were astounded. Their decision was unanimous. See how the art work changes from one viewing to another! See how there can be no single-only original version; each “copy” is the original version! See how the work reflects aspects of each person who contemplates it!

The masterpiece was simply each person’s blank computer screen. Every screen displayed a different arrangement of similar things: different arrangements of fly dirt, and sneeze globules, and fingerprints, and smears! It was a living work of art. People began doing all sorts of things in front of their blank computer screens in order to add to the value and “inner statement” of their “original”. One enterprising interpreter actually turned the screen on! Electric! An electrifying interpretation! Another took a selfie with the inbuilt cam. Was that interpretation not bordering on being slightly too Robert Mapplethorpe? Another entrepreneur (one could not use the word artist as it was simply a variation of Isabelle’s masterpiece) managed to stuff their entire computer screen inside a greatly stretched condom. Oh the waste! The squandering of a perfectly good piece of rubber! There was no way in hell it could be recycled – which was the point they were trying to make: “Recycle your raincoat”.

Isabelle planned to go to the Caribbean on the prize-money, to gather inspiration for further works. She accepted the prize with humility: “Thank you,” she said, with that noble simplicity born of greatness. “Thank you to every person in the world. You know who you are.”

338. Fridge art


Craig was always painting pictures for his mother.

“I know what it is,” said his mother, “but I want you to describe it to me.”

“That’s a boat in the sea, and that’s a fish, and there’s Daddy in the boat and the sun there.”

“That’s beautiful!” said Craig’s mother, and put it on the fridge door with a magnet.

“Here’s a giraffe,” said Craig, “with a lion and a tiger, helping a beaver to build a dam.”

“That’s beautiful!” said Craig’s mother, and put it on the fridge door with a magnet.

“And this is you, Mummy, cooking dinner in the kitchen and that’s the chicken. Isn’t it funny? It looks like a duck!”

“That’s very funny!” said Craig’s mother. “Thank you!” And put it on the fridge door with a magnet.

“Mummy,” said Craig one day, “why do you hang all my pictures upside down?”

314. Grotty old painting


Claire’s great-grandfather died. He had collected works of art throughout his life. On his death, Claire claimed that all she got was a grotty old painting of an ugly woman.

“You should get it valued,” someone said.

“Great balls of fire!” exclaimed the art dealer. “Holy moly! Hell’s bells and buggy wheels! This is a genuine Rembrandt!”

“Great balls of fire!” exclaimed Claire.

She never told a soul about the twenty-five others she’d used for kindling in her log burner.

112. Picture at an exhibition


It was a dark and stormy night when Jacob reluctantly took his son, Randle, to the art exhibition.

Jacob wasn’t much into modern art. “I don’t know much about art,” he said, “but I know what I like, and I tell you, modern art’s crap.”

It had been a tough road to hoe for Randle to put himself through Art School. Even though he was rich, his father had refused to pay for any of the art tuition. “It’s bad enough having a son who’s a woofter,” he said, “without having to pay for him to do a faggety thing like paint.”

This was Randle’s second exhibition of his paintings. When they arrived, his father needed to visit the bathroom, so he came inside. When he saw Randle’s paintings he couldn’t believe it.

“What utter crap,” he said loudly. “Look at all these stupid squiggles. An imbecilic nun with a class of two year olds could’ve done better.”

Jacob visited the bathroom. When he returned, he saw Randle talking to a man. “One of your woofter friends?” asked Jacob derisively.

“No,” said Randle. “He just bought this painting here for fifty thousand.”

Suddenly, Jacob developed a love for modern art.