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Blurred Vision

Posted on Jan 23, 2012
Mr. Fish

By Mr. Fish

(Page 3)

Should I assume, if I’m to trust completely all that is promised by the course description, that all peckers point, like compass needles, to the same creative nirvana wherein an artist can develop his expertise and ultimately find employment, power and influence? Or, I wonder, is it the purpose of my pecker to be an insignificant part of a life drawing class, the mere purpose of which is to teach a high school graduate whose SAT scores were too shitty to qualify him for an English program the cheap parlor trick, a mechanical skill really, of rendering a human body accurately, first naked and then clothed? What then? Does he then mat and frame his crap and become just another asshole who can make money selling shit to people? I wish there were fewer of those sonuvabitches around, not more. But, then, maybe it isn’t about the commodity that’s produced by the act of art making that defines the artistry of the artist, nor is it about satiating the intellectual or emotional hunger of the observer first and foremost. Maybe being able to draw like a motherfucker brings an artist closer to some kind of insight about the human condition that other skills, like cross-stitching and pillow embroidery, don’t, and then maybe the ability to render other people in the world with a pencil and paper helps him dispel, for himself, the bogus notion that he is alone in the universe. 

Maybe it’s that personal.

Maybe all that nakedness machine-gunned into an artist’s brain, nude model after nude model, eventually teaches him to demystify the singular obscenity of the individual cock or the individual pussy, the balls, the tits and ass, and integrate them into the rest of the human anatomy, like pouring notes into an allegretto or alliteration into a poem. Maybe it teaches him to recognize the sameness that all people, naked beneath their clothes, share as a virtue, a grace: proof, somehow, that humanity is composed of 7 billion specialized cells that conspire to create an immensely complicated planetary organism that requires cooperation and equal respect from all its parts to remain cohesive and alive and purposeful.

Is it then the responsibility of the art student to draw my pecker and to become an artist whose job it is to unify all of humanity around the same holistic worldview, his ability to grab the public’s attention with his gifts merely the thing that he piggybacks his goal of rescuing the species from self-annihilation upon? Could my pecker really do all that? Have I been blessed by the great good fortune to be partnered with the wizened sage, the bearded orator and savior predicted to arrive one day by countless prophecies from practically every culture that has ever existed since the beginning of time for the purpose of setting the world ablaze with truth and beauty and spiritual glee?

(Pause to allow the sound, from offstage right, of Roman soldiers busying themselves with the gathering of the boards, the hammers and the nails.)

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EmileZ's avatar

By EmileZ, January 28, 2012 at 4:25 am Link to this comment

It is kind of funny, but reading your article made me forget all about the marines peeing on Afghan corpses.

I don’t know if it is funny HaHa or it smells funny, or I am just funny in the head.

Actually I am pretty sure it is not funny HaHa.

I blame you Mr. Fish.

What the hell is going on???

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EmileZ's avatar

By EmileZ, January 28, 2012 at 4:15 am Link to this comment

I never attended art school, but I went to life drawing sessions 3 times a week for almost a year, and to be perfectly honest, I was always disappointed when the model was a male.

Whatever the sex, I always did my duty, but I must say, peckers are easy enough to draw.

It seems there are a lot of strange dynamics going on in such a situation, often a little creepy depending on the venue, and just as often, somewhat annoying depending on the attendees (I hate being chatted up when I am trying to concentrate), but mostly, as the drawer, I succeeded in tuning them out.

I am sure nude modeling is an entirely different experience and might cause one to do a lot of tripping out on the state of his pecker, or so I can easily imagine.

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By Squaresville, January 26, 2012 at 12:53 pm Link to this comment

I’ve always thought that the majority of people I went to college with needed to mask their mediocrity by wrapping their frank absence of a personality in a piece of rolled and ribboned parchment paper that had been offered up as some sort of triumphant proof that they could memorize shit and repeat it back, their hollowness made somehow whole by the addition of an academic echo.

Thanks for the +1 (and for stating it so succinctly)

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kerryrose's avatar

By kerryrose, January 26, 2012 at 8:58 am Link to this comment

I still wonder what purpose artists can have in this society… or any society, really.  What use can our talents have in the world?  Creative visualization, color sense, imagination, feeling for form…

It can’t be to make commercials, sitcoms, or magazine illustrations, can it?

Funny that these skills/talents/ways of beings seem to destroy successful integration into the world at large, too.

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Arabian Sinbad's avatar

By Arabian Sinbad, January 24, 2012 at 3:37 am Link to this comment

Excellent piece indeed Mr. Fish! Blurred Vision indeed is one description of what you talk about, but it is more than Blurred Vision; it is SPLIT VISION.

Though an educator myself who went through many years of formal education to acquire a PhD. I particularly enjoyed the quotation you included in your article about formal higher learning education.

Since your article Mr. Fish is a little lengthy for those who don’t appreciate and enjoy reading, it worth highlighting what I consider the most important part of your piece, which goes as following:

“After all, we’re talking about a 39-second clip that never would’ve been produced—never could’ve been produced—had we not decided as a nation to conflate invasion, occupation and mass slaughter with liberation, or foreign sovereignty with anti-Americanism, or war and murder with democracy building and peace-making, and yet what we decide to classify as being too disturbing to look at is the blatant demonstration of a bodily function that everybody and his grandmother partakes in 204,440 times over the course of a normal lifetime.”

“It seemed absolutely ludicrous!”

Thank you Mr. Fish for being both an excellent artist and an excellent writer, employing both in the service of truth, justice and the edification of humanity in general!

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By rumblingspire, January 23, 2012 at 6:31 pm Link to this comment
(Unregistered commenter)

Ricky Nelson - Mad Mad World

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