Kay Buena's Blog

Yawls-

     Not that this matters a whole lot, but I generally have my home page set for Googling and a variety of news and other subjects that are strange and usual.  I also keep Kevin Smith’s My Boring Ass Life available for serious meditation at hand, when the press is so persistent in presenting the most terrifying happenings, or idiotic incidentals, the more the merrier in this bizarre world.  When reading news, It’s always good to keep one’s perspective applicable to one’s role in society. Like, I often have to remind myself that I am not the secretary of defense, as I read these reports of the war in the middle east, and or that most of these world and local reports are just that, and over which I have no control.  Not that that is necessarily a good thing.   But among today’s articles was an extensive one on body language, which, I gotta say, truly just all out sucked.  For instance: yes, when one stands with one’s arms crossed in front of the chest this could indicate an unopened, protective, uncomfortable stance, probably directed at whomever is addressed.  But, this is just such generalized crap that after reading said article, I had to do my little body gesture of my own: mainly that of throwing my self down to the floor while kicking, screaming,and crying–to indicate my apparent disagreement with the simplification of such a complex and case sensitive science (?)  It is my belief that this simplistic attitude would be abhorrent to a real people-watcher, to the point of being illogical and with out  true purpose or worth.  Except, that is, to the Author who’s life experience is of a ‘dubious and questionable’ nature…other that he or she dreams of her Pulitzer, in a down right delusional fashion.

     Example: Crossed arms in front of my chest, which supposedly means one is uncomfortable or not open to what ever is being discussed; crossed arms, when in my case, and upon many occasion indicates my intention to cover up some stain on my torso, as this is inevitable given physics and gravity’s very existence.  Or maybe, one could be crossing one’s arms to indicate ‘delay of game’ – a real problem at many a football game. See what I mean?  You just can’t tell what someone’s up to, but their pose.  Especially to a trained Ballet dancer.  I mean, would a really correct and successful second position indicate the intention of  the beginning of a series of turns, or does this person have a obsessive-compulsively unacceptable way of passing gas? You can never really know.

     Frankly, I have so many artificial body parts that I’m lucky if I can stand up right and walk, much less have the ability to worry about any little sub-gesture having some hidden meaning or clue to my mood or outlook on life, especially when that little sub-gesture which in my case is probably an attempt to balance my self to prevent falling, or an attempt to grab something not really there, though my bifocals say otherwise.  All of those tips on the secret revelation of another’s mind-set or attitude just have no relationship with the reality of an old crippled geezer, and that would be me,for instance, to say nothing of a child, who hasn’t had the opertunity to study this stupid idiocy, and the idea of practicing in-front of a mirror (as recommended) or taking a video of one’s movements is just sick, and what’s the point in that? Maybe you might have insight into what you are really thinking, or doing if  you saw your self doing so?  Come on, and get over this approach to understanding people.  And really if you are happy, or surprised, or horrified what do you do to physically indicate those emotions?( A.) the gesture ripped off from “The Scream”, or Mccauley Caulken’s open mouthed, hands to the cheeks, after he applied the after-shave.Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhh (B.) Jump up and down, hands waving wildly in the air while shouting ‘you’re killing me! as loudly as possible or (C.)Smile like a banshee while running from the scene to avoid being examined for physical clues as to your intentions, (D) go for the always appropriate “Jack Benny stance”–one arm crossing the waist, one balanced on that and to the cheek”, as if you are dead panning the always approaching apocalyptic doom of what’s possible and just wait it out.  Who knows? And that’s my point.  Well, at least this time there is one.

     By the way, yesterdays “Song of the Day” was “You talk too Much” (isn’t that Ernie K. Doe and Allan Tousaint ?) -came out in very early 1960’s and is a true classic and somewhat applicable to my blog. (Too bad. If the press gets to mouth off like that, with out mercy, so do I.) But today’s song of the day is :”Shine on Harvest Moon.” The version of this one, I learned from watching Mance Lipscomb, so it’s presented in a very unusual style.  If I can get the technical expert off his ass today, we’ll put out a rough cut of both, for your  possible enjoyment.  The day is young.  Who knows what really lurks?

      It is a remarkable thing that what ever notoriety I have received as a visual artist, is from my Computer destruction, relief sculptures (inside pun), as I was trained quite classically at the University of Texas in the late 60’s.  This was back in the McKinley administration, when you really had to know how to draw, paint, or sculpt, and/or  take artfully notable photographs and know how to process them–without computer help; an unimaginable concept these days.  We were also expected to take 36 hours of art history, so we had some idea of the growth and nature of Art.  It was in these college days that an unforeseen development occurred; as it has so often done back in the past: I write of  the conceptional art wave, like Andy Warhol’s work, or a slide off’s of Picasso’s bicycle seat portrait, and even in the late 60’s, some of these junk induced works which were beginning to make it to the “walls of the art building’s display”, a year-round  sort of Student Gallery they were even then.   I vaguely remember some “modernist” savvy students’s sculpture displayed there (it was some sort of a ”statement” (?) starting from an old toilet (hung on the Wall) with addon’s.) It was a shitty deal, no joke, and ignored by most, however I remember a moment I spent shared with  my now deceased, very talented and well known, mostly realistically inspired,  famous, old-school sculpture professor, Charles Umlauf.  He was quite disturbed and puzzled by this particular work with the toilet and all.   He and I worked closely in my junior and senior year and shared the same opinion that this was just ‘junk on the wall’.  He actually turned to me and asked what it meant; to which I replied,”I don’t get it either.” Then he continued his diatribe about this work, which was wonderfully done.    At one time he said it was something that looked like “a dope ‘add-dick‘” (accent on the first syllable, his speaking was unique in that he was originally German, immigrated to the Chicago area where he studied at The Chicago Institute of Art, which was a big deal…so I think he thought in German, but didn’t have much of an accent*). would do and just leave around…” *Having no accent in Texas is strange indeed. The whole experience haunts me.

 However, there are time’s when I am drawing, even to this day, when  I hear his encouraging comments or directions, especially when trying portraits.  I’ve been working on a truly fine portrait of snoop Dogg, from a photo, which I will sell on this site later, after Mr. Umlauf and I are finished with it.  I think it’s really “dope.” 

But I don’t use street drugs anymore–who knows what’s in them?  That sort of thing is suspicious as all get out to me, even if I do hear from the dead.  I mean: what’s in those street drugs anyway?  They could be produced in the toliet for all we know…but that is a me in digression as usual. 

       But my Shot up computer and cell phones are by far what gets the attention.  I wonder why that is? They are usually visually appealing, even with all the bullet holes. But maybe we just all share in the desire to gain revenge on computers, etc. and these works are obviously that.  Nothing lives though a 10 hollow point clip to the center and keeps on ticking.

     In truth, had I been older and as bold of an old hag that I am now, I might have attempted some sort of stupid explanation to Mr. Umlauf about the Toilet Sculpture, and how it (?) was considered Art-by some.  How ever it did not have the restful, trophy-like presence of my better stupid conceptual art works, like said shot up computers, etc.  Actually, I intend to post more on this site, if I can figure out how to use this damn digital camera, with out taking my pistola out and working it over too.

Just a little humor indicated there, Charles, (my much discussed husband, who is more patient and semi-literate in ‘ART’. as any non believer can be…your camera is safe with me).