Art Appreciation
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
It took a while for the PHSA alumni assembly to start, Silangan Hall speckled with the few Ibarangs who had willed themselves awake on a nice, nippy Saturday morning, so I decided to pass the time stumbling around the 5th floor of CCP. I only had the nerve to thanks to the high school tour group a floor below, whose din echoed just enough to keep me company down those dark, carpeted halls.
(I hate that paragraph. It’s so R.L. Stein I could fart.)
Anyway, that’s when I saw the Painting again, which I first encountered when I was around 9, and was the reason for quite a few nightmares since. This piece spanned the whole wall across from the little girls’ room, so I had to run past that thing with my hands over my eyes every time I needed to pee. Before last Saturday, I only knew that it featured some sort of horrid humanoid, a part-man, part-beast deal rendered with as much gloom as possible. I had sworn to myself that I would never, ever look at it again; there was something far too sinister about it, something that I felt would fuck me up for good if I braved another peek.
Having seen it again at an age and mindset more impervious to scary shit in all its ways and forms, I still have to agree with that stupid little girl from over a decade ago. The smidge of sunlight available did lend the Painting a more mundane quality—clumpy brushstrokes instead of shadows, a Funny Eagle Man with wings spread all wide and gay in place of the monster in my head—but there was one thing in it that was, really and truly, the stuff of all tortured dreams.
Funny Eagle Man had a huge cock. Huge. Ginormous. Unwieldy, even.
How my exposure to this beast at an early stage of development has affected me is anyone’s guess.
Or not. Who am I kidding.
posted by marguerite @ 11:10 AM
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