But the other problem was that it's all true. I laugh at farts and jokes about blondes, pooh and ethnics, and I don't have any paintings at all in the house. I kinda sorta looked at framed prints awhile back - but the stuff I liked started at $1200.00 and went up from there. That's the price of a decent scope, or a car maintenance bill, or something else more useful than a painting or a print. I am not rich, but I am free - and we got that way by watching our pennies. I would rather have no art on the walls than bad art.
Wasn't always like that. Before my daughter flipped out, we had some of her art up on the walls. I framed one of the last ones she did for us, but gave it back to her when I discovered that I had ruined her life and she ran away to join the circus. That left me with only this one, and the last piece of art in the house:
That's portrait of Yours Truly during a spectacularly successful
ice fishin' trip in the 90's, proudly posing with the
biggest trophy of my fishin' career.
It's oils or acrylics on canvas and one of her first attempts at painting. Colour theory is something that always eluded me and my wife - but the kid could do it! Her later stuff was much better. Fact is she's probably a first rate artist by now.
I am really torn about stuff like this. On one hand, there was a time when we were still all sane and a semi-viable family. Of course now, after the drama (lord, how queers love drama) - I'm not sure I need stuff like this anymore. I've idly mused about just chucking it onto the campfire one day when the wife isn't looking...
Maybe I'll hang on to it for now, and if some rude blogger ever accuses me of having substandard taste in art - I will have something to submit to a jury of my peers for an objective evaluation! :)