Somehow, this week has gotten away from me.Â I think it was the bears that did it. Okay, let’s just take this and run with it, as far as it will go. Will it go all the way to nipplepots? I think it might.
This is, as it were, the tip of the iceberg.
I haven’t seen much in the way of suggestive pottery, not this year anyway. In fact, I think this might be the only piece I’ve seen, but…it’s a doozy.
I’m having a hard time faulting the artistry of this piece. It’s bounteous and round, with a lovely coppery-brown dollop that gives it that quality you so rarely see in glazed ceramics–this pot is pert. And is it abundant? Yes, yes it is.
But I’ll be hornswoggled if I know exactly what it is. The little ribbony tendrils add a fanciful, feminine touch, just in case the overall effect wasn’t fanciful or feminine enough. Maybe it’s a special pot that you use to store wiles and charms in, and it was just so overfull that it BURST into bosoms.
This breathtaking boobscape simulates the experience of crash-landing on the set of Heavy Metal. Or a very very large bowl of strawberry ice cream and magic shell.
These things drift through our lives, and we step back and say “Artist…oh, artist. Where did you go astray? Was this what you intended all this time? Is this the culmination of your dream, the product of three years in art school?” And the artist responds, saying “Don’t you like my boobpot?” And you have to say “Well, yes. But that’s not really the point, and please stop waving that at me. You’re distracting me from a very reasonable conversation.”
This…weird little thing from the Goodwill on 2222 and Lamar, Austin