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09/26/2005: "Life Is Not A Disney Film"

We all know it. It's seems silly to even say it. Life is not a Disney
film.

Still, fantasy is so alluring. Wouldn't it be great if we could really live
the lives we've fantasized? The remote control would be in our hands so
that we could block out any undesirable channels. We could zap out any
semblance of unpleasantness before it crept into our storyline. Everything
would be in Technicolor and we would always be animated, shiny and happy.


This is a scene that has been mocked time and again by contemporary artists,
who've dismissed it as fake and phony. But why? Don't artists want to be
happy? Are we THAT jaded?

I think, in a word, yes. Although cyncism is deplorable and should have no
place in our societal psyche, the same should be said for our insatiable
thirst for the happy ending. Don't get me wrong, I'm a sucker for happy
endings. Love 'em! However, they're FANTASY. They're REEL life not REAL
life. We're lusting after the cookie-cutter, plastic, perpetually clean,
perfect life that, so far, has only been available thanks to Hollywood which
rakes in billions of dollars. They've got us where they want us.

Meantime, we threaten to cut funding for art institutions that mount
exhibitions displaying what we call "gratuitous sex," "gratuitous violence"
and obscenity. As we all know, art imitates life, but nothing is more
gratuitous than life itself. Art will never come even close to completely
portraying the harsh realities of this world. Life isn't always sappy
reunions, lasting romances and happily ever afters.

Still, we lust after "reel" life at the expense of real life.

Art that portrays stark, harsh reality reminds me that THIS IS IT. We've
got one life to live. One shot. That's it. We can choose to walk through
life with our eyes wide open or we can tune out the unpleasantness and seek
certainty and permanence, in vain.

I think photographers do a great job of capturing life at its bleakest,
lowest, most desperate moments. They seem to be driven by this passion to
capture reality. It's almost as if we think that if we can capture reality,
perhaps we can control it and turn it into "reel" life. That just won't
happen. Yet, embracing reality is life affirming.

I do think that if we're capturing reality (as we see it anyway) the right
way, then the lesson has got to be that life is beautiful. Despite the
desolation, poverty, disease, war, sorrow, broken dreams and promises, it's
the only life and world that we have. It's a broken world where many things
don't work. Yet, real life is MUCH better than reel life. Reel life isn't
life at all. It's pure fantasy.

Thankfully, life isn't all bad. There are so many great things in life that
art recreates. Especially plein-air painters. Beautiful landscapes, lovely
portraits of families, delectable still lifes. Life is beautiful, even at
its ugliest. Especially when you're staring at the alternative. I don't
know about you, but I want to experience as much of it as possible. Grab
life with greedy hands! All of it. Hold on for dear life! Not just the
good because the bad is also life affirming. I remember reading somewhere
that members of a superstar rock group can't even remember YEARS of their
lives because they were "drugged out" for much of that period. Wow. I want
to remember everything in my life! Even the bad.

Through troubling times, I remind myself that I have my health and my
family. And art. I'm not out looking for ugly, wrenching and horrible
experiences. They'll pass through me. Still, even in the midst of pain and
sorrow, they've got to be better than "reel" life.

Whatever we're experiencing, it's real and it's beautiful. THIS IS IT!

Replies: 27 Comments

on Wednesday, October 5th, Margaret said

Alas, alack......Nemesis is back, so
torture yourselves not upon the rack.

on Wednesday, October 5th, Opie said

Wag tag a bing bong
Opie wins Opie wins
Paint your kitsch paint your kitsch
Nary a poem exists for you without rhyme
A score a verse, 5 lines in and you declare.
A tree, a forest, hot air, no sound.
A splinter, an apex, confusion, metadata.
A name, a flower, road side vegetation.
A picture, 27 words, 973 missing.
Abstraction, no clue, you're lost
Opie wins.

on Wednesday, October 5th, Hyacinthe Baron said

Okay, Okay, child's play
has won the day
for artists trapped
within a bog.
Now the game is wrapped.
Who is to say who won the blog?

on Monday, October 3rd, OPie said

Oh so sorry you had to go.
That chalk dust be a beckoning.
Perhaps there'll be a day for you,
amongst those halls of lorn.

Teacher teacher can you see,
my bright big eyes of victory.
Please don't cry and run away,
let me win another day!

on Monday, October 3rd, walt said

Dear AND,OTC,OMD
I see I cannot gain.
I thought it was a friendly game.
Ad homenim doesn't suit my whim
its a sea in which I will not swim.
I guess this means you win again.
Good for you.
I have better things to do.

on Sunday, October 2nd, omd said

A little teacher saw his shadow
splayed upon a chocolate malt.
A great big ego he did have,
He named his sweet drink, Walt.

Upside down and all around,
he searched for his profession.
He dreamed and dreamed he was an artist,
but that ol' chalkboard reined supreme.

My oh my I paint such pictures,
to make you all believe,
that I am one you should collect,
For teachers think they know it all.

on Sunday, October 2nd, walt said

Oh but OTC
poetry's not like ROTC.
But sees it's freedom
in branches and trees
and repeats
and treats
as fitting it sees.
I'm spitting seeds
and getting some speed.

You claimed your lead
a bit premature!
In deed
the lure of manure is needed.
Only then is the garden weeded.

on Sunday, October 2nd, otc said

error error - correction - word used twice in single verse - error correction ....

Flap flap wind blows
Teriyaki sauce for all.
Walk the dog in parks of old,
find your place in line.

Pages turn, keys pressed,
There is no where to go.
Try a blanket, try a lounge,
or buy it in a box.

on Sunday, October 2nd, otc said

Flap flap wind blows
Teriyaki sauce for all.
Walk the dog in parks of old,
find your place in line.

Pages turn, keys pressed,
There is no where to turn.
Try a blanket, try a lounge,
or buy it in a box.

on Saturday, October 1st, olga said

My 2 cents here:

I am a poet
My name - NEZNAIKA (person who does not know anything)
From me to you - BALALAIKA (Russian 3-string musical instrument)

=<

on Saturday, October 1st, walt said

I am OC
I win!
...judge, jury and axman.

Okie dokie OC
you're it...
just beware the taxman!

on Friday, September 30th, gabriella said

Oh, OC "Pound, Whitman, Ferlinghetti, Hughes"!You are the greatest! Now, please publish! My doggerel will never again see the light of day, in fact my vapid poesies are now burning in the fireplace.

on Friday, September 30th, OC said

I am the most creative here!

I won the poem-off

I I I I I I am !!!!!!

ha ha ha ha ha

on Friday, September 30th, Michael Fornadley said

Here is one I still remember when I was a kid on a military base:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

You got a noise like a B-52.

Always loved that one for some reason..

on Friday, September 30th, OC said

Tepid souls rejoice
sing and dance with no remorse
A round and round we turn
Please fill me glass again!

Orange grey skies return once more
We paint the trees awash
Our palettes blaze as we reflect
That apple tree and turning leaves

on Thursday, September 29th, gabriella said

All you can do is try,
Throw red apples into the sky,
Where they turn into a pie.
Then you can only ask, "Why?"

on Thursday, September 29th, Olga said

Ha-Ha! Love it!

on Thursday, September 29th, Andrew said

I cannot afford you
if bought you must be
Nor would I if could I
what I seek is free
But if money, honey,
If that's your style
Then maybe, baby,
Could I rent you for a while?

on Thursday, September 29th, walt said

I bought my sweet a corsage,
a little bit red mixed with yellow.
she kissed me neet then bellowed
"mon fleur ornage!"

on Thursday, September 29th, jose said

a great response Walt, i won't comment much more because what i have to add i already wrote about in the blog i had ready for mid-september but which i've been told should appear sometime soon.

on Thursday, September 29th, Oc said

ok ok ok instead of a tit-for-tat I challenge you Walter to a poem-out!

A beautiful reel real world poem-out!

No pre-writing...has to be spontaneous...

A splended day for chocolate
as I lace the shoes of life
Nary a time for thought or reason
I type a plane for you.

.

on Wednesday, September 28th, O.C. said

A higher plane? Walter, your writing is as boring as your profession, teaching. Fantasy? You inspire me to sit staight up in my chair and pay attention in class. Give me a break, my goodness! Your boring crap is a higher plane? Obviously you failed to grasp the meaning of Ornage Sunshine.

After eating my orange which actually was my yellow, I took out the red.

In my carry bag, a bird. The feathers I drew.

The pen made then brisked that barren fiber.

But now the flight was gone. A pen for a flightless bird as the words flew.

Oh so lucky oh so lucky, the zip-lock verbal queen graced our presence. Travel slightly behind she said and thow shall never move forward.

aye, the red, yes the apple is needed!

on Wednesday, September 28th, olga said

Walter! I enjoyed reading your comment, in particular, how you met your wife!

on Wednesday, September 28th, walt said

To get these responses back onto a higher plane it is important to note the roll fantasy plays in our psyche. When we fantisize we lay scripts in our minds which set us on a track towards that which we fantisize about. If some goals are sought after and we put a little umph into it we often find ourselves drawing a life much closer to our fantasy life. I fantasized about being an artist a lot when I was young...but it is important to note that I also did things to work towards my goal like learning to draw and paint along the way. Fantasy can either be a complete waste of time or much more pragmatic like a self fullfilling prophecy. My mother, upon hearing my fantasy about being an artist and traveling to other countries used to tell me that one day I'd be a great artist and my work would be famous all over the world. She also called me the absent minded professor. Was she so smart as to know that these little prophecies of hers would become self fulfilling?

Things I fantasized about? I fancied I was famous but would dress up in disguises so I could go out in public without being recognized so I could see how the real world was; I fancied living and painting in New York,I fancied exhibiting in great venues like the Museum of Modern Art; I fancied I would exhibit in other countries and get to travel therein; I fancied being a lecturer on art in general and my own work; I fancied meeting other great artists including writers and musicians and playwrites and I fancied hanging out with them; I also fancied that my art would be the way I would meet women (yes I was in puberty at the time).

The fact is my fantasies have, to degrees larger and smaller come true. I met my wife because she heard I was an artist-- she hired me to do her portrait (really just a sham to meet me I later found out), I've exhibited in other countries and traveled there, I've met some really great artists of all sorts and had some long standing friendships with several of them, and although I haven't had that exhibit at MoMA yet I have exhibited in a few smaller museums and am even in the collection of a museum in Japan, I have lived and painted in New York if only briefly and of course I've been a professor for 20 years now.

I never fancied working for Disney. My parents took me there when I was ten and I returned with some friends when I was 18. We did acid and went on the fantasy submarine ride. But since Disneyland is the starter for this blog it seems relavent that many of my students have worked on Disney films-- not that I'm a big fan of Disney but it is a great first job for many of my students who were interested in animation as a career.

So, especially for an artist, fantasy is one of the ways we draw our lives to us. And of course it is also one of the starting tools for creating works of art. But the key is setting goals that are also more practical and possible. So go ahead and fantasize...then do something about it.

Michael, did you ever fantasize about collecting art?

on Wednesday, September 28th, pankaj said

ruspected sir,
iam pankaj from india &am great fan ur arts but irealy great impresed by ur new supernaturle painting am looking after which art isaw in just only ur painting sir iwant to come inur company realy if i will got great happines with ur under

on Monday, September 26th, Orange sunshine said

Inagada davida babee
don't cha know that I want you so

Walking solemnly past a tall pinkish blue fruit bearing tree

I reached high and plucked

Twas not an apple with it's hopes of knowledge

but an orange

I reached in my pocket and retreived the key to the city that had just been given me,

and I peeled that orange

but as I peeled, all of everything started glowing. A mist A light A fog the colors as all glowed I became invisible. I shifted my stance, looked behind, and saw a little doggie. But puppie was on canvas. Puppie could not see me. I wanted to cuddle puppy.

Then I ate my orange. Which really was a yellow by that time.

on Monday, September 26th, Andrew said

Michael, this time you wrote one good enough that I had to read it twice. There is your dependence on the status quo, the desire to fund the arts that comes from the very cookie cutter fantasy you describe, evident in your other blogs, but this time...there's a lot more, as well. You refer to contemporary artists who've ridiculed a technicolor fantasy life, and dismiss it as fake and phony. The door opens to a panorama of discussions. You talk about hollywood as a multi billion dollar industry bent on fleecing us, but forget that art has come from there, as well, and stories that ought to have been told - like the one about the Grace company dumping toxins and poisoning a whole town in Massachusetts - 'A Civil Matter' - or like many, many others among the fantasy. Film, like a painting, is only what it's maker puts in there. You got a rise out of me on that one, believer in the art of film making that I am.
You also open up a window on the subject of how painful experiences form a part of life, that life is all we have, and that as a whole it is beautiful. A grand philosophical topic, bound to stimulate readers and bring forth opinions one way or the other.
Is art fantasy in itself? There's another one.
The art we make is influenced by the experiences we have. Whatever it is, the artist stands naked before whoever can interpret what they've made...all their warts and complexes are there in plain sight, to those who know what to look for.
Good blog!