Antique Painting of Choo-Choo Train
"So you really think it's by Michelangelo?" I said.
I know a thing or two about art, it didn't look like a Michelangelo to me but I could tell by the nails in the back that it was old and it would look pretty good across from the picture I have of the crying circus clown by Picasso and the little girl praying at the side of her bed with the back of her pajamas fallen down by Da Vinci.
"If not by the master himself, certainly it's in the school of. It's hard to say, back then they'd get the apprentices to paint the pictures and just go around and sign them at the end" he said.
"Like Andy Warhol" I observed, because as I said I know a thing or two about art.
"Exactly".
So I'm selling this fine, Antique, Old Masters Style (possibly even Michelangelo) painting of a choo-choo train. $25.00. It's old. I can't make out the signature and so I've not verified it to be a Michelangelo, but what does it matter? Great art speaks to the soul, and why should it's value change because of the brand of artist?
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- Category: For Sale
Antique Radio Case / Talking box
Exactly as pictured, missing a small bit of trim on the left side, no knobs or tubes.
Note this is an original item, not a reproduction.
Provenance? I'm glad you asked.
When I was a kid our family was pretty poor. Not the "I got an X-Box 360 for Christmas but I really wanted a WI" kinda poor that frequents the foodbanks nowadays, more the "My father was a dustman, he wears a dustman's cap" kinda poor. Anyways, one day he brought this radio home. Well, not a radio per-se, it was just the case but it was good enough for us. Every night, as we huddled about the fire he'd put the radio on his head and give us the news.
"Thees ees radio Reichssender Hamburg" he said in a funny voice, and then it changed "Germany Calling...." he said in another funny voice, all proper sounding, and he began to give us news of the war.
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Practical Art
Art that people loved enough to report stolen. Who knows, maybe you'll turn one of these up at your next garage sale?
But seriously, there are some very fine Old Masters missing as well. Worth a peruse, as, unlike galleries, this is art that wealthy people actually bought and loved.
Link: http://lapdonline.org/art_theft_detail
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Cabin Fever
It's been 2 weeks without a car.
Normally it wouldn't matter, I've lived so long without a car what do I need one now for? But this new place, it's far from everywhere, a ten minute walk to a erratic bus stop, a half hour wait (if you're lucky) for the bus, connections, I'm out there.
The only amenities in this neighborhood are a Gas Station and a Pub.
And the weather, the first week I took the bus, this week I've been in, it's close to 20 below, colder in the evenings, thick snow everywhere; bored cats pacing the house and fighting over trifles, we've all got Cabin Fever.
I check what I could be doing, if the car was ready (it's not, I called and checked...). There's the Spanish Film Festival at The Plaza. Damn. It looks good, and not just because I can't go... Then there's The Marda Loop Justice Film Festival, which is good to take the boy to. But there's no way I'm going to that without a car. And there's always Chess at the Pumphouse Theatre, never great productions (your lucky if anyone can sing), but they're fun and they're cheap.
But it's 20 below and I'm not going anywhere.
There's a great Puppet Show - The Narrative of Victor Karloch, fortunately not yet in Calgary, so I'm not yet missing anything there, but watching the trailer I want to be there NOW!.
So I clean. How bored do I have to be before I clean? Pretty damned bored. I make the bed and vacuum, I clean the toothpaste off the bathroom wall (and in the process discover a mirror), I postpone finishing my book (The History of Love by Nicole Krauss, loved it...), I promise myself I'll go out, somehow, tonight, I make cucumber and tomato and tomatillo salsa, and I make my vague plans.
There are paintings to be worked on, but tonight I'll skip it. I'm going out.
The local pub, The Swig and Swine it's called, a ten minute walk, they advertise bikini waitresses and VLT's and "Porkin' in the Rear...", and I think that I should probably clean myself up before I go out, then I realize where I'm going (and why would anyone clean themselves up to go there, I ask you?) and I despair and finish reading my book.
Another quiet night in. I'll go out tomorrow night, I promise....
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- Category: Miscellany
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