|Surreal,dark,spiritual,cathartic,and just plain silly. Paintings, drawings and digital art pulled from the depths of the David Aronson's subconscious mind.
The Emperorís New Crutches
Art is the nose on my face
Art is the liver in my frying pan
Art hums around my ear like a mosquito
Art floats upstream in a paper boat
made of lead which never sinks.
Some would like to laminate art
and hoist it high into the vault
Some would like art to be adjustable
like a baseball cap
Some would like to cut it up,
scatter it like confetti,
and sell tickets.
Art is the black mother who seduces me
from the darkened hall
outside my childhood bedroom.
The importance attached to
scratch marks in dirt is amazing;
Squiggles and dots endlessly spewing from
mouths like bacteria.
Art canít fix a toilet but still,
there is a need to remember
Naked fire, beast language,
the oceans churning in the belly.
Opinions and onions can be cooked or eaten raw
Semantic beards chase their tails round podiums but
Art still slips from your hands like afterbirth.
Every pebble dropped in water finds an audience
Some see God in the color red
Some hear nothing but TV snow
and shuffle art like trading cards.
Art is the bloodstain on a ripe melon
Art is the glass that sees the enemyís map
Art is the flame under the flask,
the black bone soot,
the wriggling fins and eyes,
snouts and horns and snapping teeth.