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Life Through Art.

Sometimes as I go about my day, or my week, I start to envision my life as it might be symbolically represented by priceless works of art. Like, sometimes I get on the scale, and I feel like a fatty, and I try to reframe the moment through Botticelli, as if I were a perfect modern representation of the ideal 15th century woman. (which for better or worse, I am.) 

Occassionally, once that painting is in my brain it can set the tone for the future, and often times, it's set by one of my favorite artists, Goya. The great thing about Goya, is that he started life extremely optomistic, and ended it extremely disturbed. So practically any moment in a person's life could be symbolically represented by Goya. He runs the gammit.

Last week, I would sum up my existence with this late Goya work:

I couldn't say for sure if I'm the poor sap getting eaten by a deranged monster, or if I was the deranged monster eating others for breakfast (a la my mechanic, the insurance company, Dan, an entire box of Tootsie Roll's DOTS in about 5 minutes-I don't even LIKE those.)  but it perfectly represents the horror and disdain and also desperation that the monster seems to have with himself, the total helplessness of the other guy, and pretty much the crumminess of the whole situation.  (I like to think of Goya as the first Zombiest- taking almost normal people and manipulating them into demons who bring about the apocalypse. I love him.)

But the good news is, on this fine monday, I'm feeling a little more like this early, unjaded Goya:


The storm has passed, the company picnic was a great success, and the hot chicks want to toss me in the air for some fun and laughs and good memories all around. I do not anticipate that my velocity or weight will impact the ladies' ability to sustain my bounce. Cheeks are rosy with delight and all is well with the world.

Happy Monday, y'all.
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