Art or Not?

Artist Tracey Emin recently turned the scene of personal heartbreak and despair into a windfall.  Her art installation titled, the Unmade Bed just sold for over $4 million.  For that price, the buyer not only gets the rumpled, stained sheets, but an assortment of empty liquor bottles, cigarettes, panties AND a condom.

Un. Fucking. Believable.

I'm amazed by this for a couple of reasons.  First, that someone would have the cajones to put her panty-laden, unmade bed in a gallery and call it art.  Second, that someone would pay that kind of money for an unmade bed with shit strewn on and around it.

Damn.  I'm sitting on a goldmine.  I'm surrounded by "art installments" just waiting to be discovered. When the dogs got into the trash, like a fool, I cleaned it up.  Next time, I'm getting an agent and putting that feast for the senses on the market.  Ca-ching!  Ca-ching!

Y'all get ready because I already have an artistic vision for my first show....  Keep in mind, these are only photographs.  The actual pieces will be life-sized and easily worth millions to people who have far more money than sense.  Hell, just because I want to share my art with the world, I'll go ahead and say right now that I'll sell the entire collection for a cool $1 million.

Total.  Bargain.

This first piece depicts the triumph of procrastination over easy care and clearly shows that labels do not define me.  Bonus!  The jeans can actually be worn when not on display.

"Fluff"

Society places rules and expectations on us.  Some of which I cannot abide.  For example, don't tell me a crisper drawer is for vegetables.  Who needs an entire drawer for lettuce?  No, sir.  Not in this house. Ours is reserved for wheat and barley.

"The Vault"

This piece is a personal one for me.  It depicts my commitment to diet beverages and recycling.  The lone regular drink hidden among the others represents temptation.  Deep.  

"Aspartame Orgy"

It's a cold, hard, fact:  Crime is everywhere.  Never is it more threatening to our existence than when it creeps into even the darkest corners of our home, brought by the ones we love.

"Money Laundering"

My last installment will be an experience for the senses.  You will you see it.  Hear it.  Smell it.    It may take time to rightfully gain access to the Commodores' hit, "Brick House" as it is the essential soundtrack to this piece, but I shall persevere until my vision is realized.

"Shit House"

Whew....  I'm drained.  Journeying deep into my soul to create these one-of-a-kind masterpieces is totally exhausting.  No doubt, it will take time to replenish what I have lost through the creative process.

Time to hit The Vault....