I don't know what these things are. I took this--where else?--in NOLA, and the original shot is below. Those plants are funky, and their fruit--if fruit is what they be--didn't hang, so to speak, the way I would have guessed. It sort of stood up straight; it didn't make sense to me. So it was a shot begging to be flipped upside down, cropped, warped and rendered pink. Natch.
And what do you get? Pink bananas is what you gets.
You're welcome.
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9 comments:
I am not fond of the colour pink and I dislike bananas with passionate intensity. You have upset me. I think I shall go lie down with a cold compress until I feel better.
What? I can't hear you. I have a banana in my ear.
S-S--
Here's my response. When I was at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago a few weeks ago I bought a refrigerator magent with the title,"Fear no Art." I bought it because I must buy refrigerator magnets--that's how I do, yo--but that's the one of only two they sold. But I didn't like it. Because it's false. Untrue. It seems to me the people who'd pump out such nonesense are the pro-art people (of which I count myself a member). And yet if art is as important and profoundly influential as they (and I) suggest, it's bound to be scary. Intentionally. It's meant to be transgressive. So they can't have it both ways: Ooh, art is cool and transgressive, on the one hand, but how dare you have such a big reaction to it(!), on the other.
Which brings me to pink bananas. Lookey, when people say I gots to get to my blog, I do so.
But on my terms.
And pink bananas it is.
----
I think it's understandable to dislike bananas with passionate intensity. I happen to like them, and I like liking them. But I understand that you don't.
I'm not so big into beige (in most cases). And I think grapefruits should be called jokefruits. They're horrible. Have you tried one? The only good ones are the ones that don't taste anything like grapefruit.
"Hey, you've GOT to eat this grapefruit. It's amazingly sweet!!"
Exactly. It's a freak grapefruit. Eat it yourself, freak-o.
It's how I do.
So the moral of this story is....umm....well, it's there if you look close enough.
justcurious--
ahh....this takes me back to my days as a kid. unfortunately, here you are playing my father figure.
Well. That gives me pause.
It gives you "Pa's."
(2 snare hits, cymbal crash)
I am so with you. Art is frightening, and grape fruit is nasty. The latter is disgusting and slightly pinkish, and the former often involves reflections upon death, and my favorite parts of art museums are the depictions of the bloody nasty deaths of holy people and gods even though it's quite disturbing.
Beige, to me, is a non-colour, a space-filler that I don't think about, like the scroll lock button on the keyboard. It might be good for something but it's hard to imagine what and I tend to forget about it.
The moral of the story might be that when it comes to tropical fruits, passions can run deep.
I am grateful that your talents enliven the internet, and I suppose I should do so without whining about my unhappiness when you abandon the shadows and the cemeteries and the death for brightly colored fruit-like abominations, but I am demanding and spoiled.
I picked up a banana-phone the other day. My favorite phrase to say while talking on it, "Oh that's bananas!"
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