Nobody Goes to the Art Museum…Report.
Nobody Knows—
That I went to the St. Louis Art Museum today.
It’s what I call a trip to what the humanity USED to produce…GREAT works of art, and now..lots of crappy junk.
If art reflects the culture, and society, what is it saying about us?
For instance:
There weren’t many pieces on the Greeks and Romans, but what they did have was astounding. There I am, standing in front of one.
As you walk into the main lobby, trying to get away from Max Beckman, and also the Picasso’s which you swear you could paint in one afternoon, (Why is he so honored?) you see on display, the things that the blacks in St. Louis love the most: Sneakers. Giant Sneakers. Next to that was a destroyed car with graffiti!
Hey, nothing like giving the swamp artists another idea! If the cars aren’t worth stealing, they could use some really cool “I WAS HERE” graffiti.
Then you go past the masters…the Rembrandts, The Dutch painters…the Flemish, the ones who really could paint.
And then…the modern museum.
And you think. WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? We went from carving waves of sheer fabric into marble to a giant picture of solid red? Huh?
Also to report, they have mostly liberals working there. I had to go to the bathroom and some black guy was cleaning it. Well, being as I don’t have a gall bladder I said, “Hey, the nearest girls’ restroom is almost half a mile THAT WAY…why don’t you just step out for a second, I’ll only be a minute”
He got this look on his face as if I had thrown chocolate pecan pie on the Mona Liza.
He stepped into the entrance to block my entering and said with his eyes bugging out:
“No, you CANNOT come in!”
What?
There was a lady employee a foot away.
“Hey, tell him to step away for a minute.”
“No, you’ll have to wait.”
“But, I Don’t have a gall bladder! Where’s your common sense!?”
“No…you can’t go in” she said.
Down the hall was the boys’ restroom.
“Can I use that one?“ I asked.
“Sure! Go ahead” she said…knowing that she had been ordered that our culture is now unisex and that’s very permissible. Very hip. Very cool. You could tell she felt so good giving me permission to use the men’s restroom.
My husband blocked the door.
So, what I did get out of my visit.
Humanity has left the building. It died with the Greeks and Romans. And Gays have ALWAYS been in San Franscisco:
And Elvis is still waiting to get into the men’s restroom, because it’s being cleaned.
Nobody Remembers Yoko and John
Quite a while back, I used to play piano and sing in various hotels. And one night, I remember vividly because I played this song for Yoko Ono.
It was around supper time, and the lounge was just off the main lobby. The bar that is. I was at the grand piano in the middle of a sunken floor, performing. John Lennon had died about six months before and Yoko was staying at the hotel to sell some of his artwork the next day at a local gallery. It was a Doubletree..pretty nice hotel.
Now, here’s the strange part. The bartendar yelled out at me and said “HEY..Yoko Ono is in the lobby!”
So I pulled out this song, and sang it, because I knew she could hear it. It so happens she was being interviewed on the radio in the lobby while I was playing this song. Good timing.
In about 20 minutes she walked way down all the way into the middle of the room, to me, and smiled and gave me a hundred dollar tip. She said, “That was so lovely…I really loved..you sang it so lovely.”
She had four great big body guards that came down with her, and she is pretty short. And looks JUST like her pictures. Of course, I was sort of stunned, but gracious.
But here’s what is REALLY strange, and I’ve thought about it often. I had the music to that song, and carried it around for a good 20 years, and never played it. Never. It wasn’t exactly a hit song. I just liked it.
It felt, as almost, John was sending a message to his lover through me. Is that crazy? I felt like it was when I was doing it. Like I was being channeled.
I was a big Beatle fan growing up, and I had met Paul McCartney in New York many years before when he was recording RAM.
Anyway, of course I was absolutely unbearable to the employees of the hotel that night: Going around saying “YOKO ONO GAVE ME A $100 tip!” Ha ha.
I had too much fun with it.
Clearly these two really loved each other.
And yes, if there is such a thing as a soul living after death…Then John used me to sing to her.
Later on, I read that his son Julian Lennon said his dad gave HIM a sign…a white feather.
His father said he would send him a white feather.
Lots of people have this kind of stuff happen to them, loved ones communicating with them after death, and it really is one of the great mysteries of the universe.
This video is bad, but shows the love they had for each.
May we all, in our lifetimes, have the deep love that these two had.
We could only hope.
Siegfreid Reinhardt, The History of Space, and the Drummer Girl
Nobody Remembers:
If you have ever spent time at Lambert Field International Airport in St. Louis, you might have seen the huge long mural on the wall, painted by Siegfreid Reinhardt. Siegfried was a famous American painter that lived her in St. Louis, taught at Washington University. He was featured in Time and Life and has pictures at the Vatican. His ART was called superrealism. I remember seeing the full mural of the History of Aviation, AFTER we had become friends. And a few years after he died. He died in 1984.
And he was my dear friend.
Here’s a taste of that mural:
I was thinking about him today. I met him in a bar called “NINO”S which was in a mall, years ago. I was with my girlfriend, and had a wee too much to drink (which for me is about 3 glasses of anything) sitting at a small table in the middle of the room, laughing with Nancy, and he was there visiting his friend NINO, who was also an artist. We all used to hang out at the bar. Nino played Spanish guitar.
I used to go to Siegfried’s house, and play his piano downstairs. His house was covered with drawings and pictures and he had a weiner dog named Heidi that he would yell German commands at. I thought it was the funniest thing.
He also used to come watch me play drums in whatever band I was in, and always gave me lectures to “PROMOTE” myself. Of course, I was…pretty humble about myself..and didn’t take his advice, but I really adored him. Even though he kept trying to date me, I thought he was too old for me. One time we had a small fight and he said to me “Your too sensitive.” He was right. But he was older than me and I think I was coming out of a bad love affair. So, he drew my picture…and put me holding my drumsticks, and I told him I wanted a horse in it, and a necklace with a basketball on it. “My heart has been bounced around too many times.” I told him. So, he did that! Much to my surprise. He drew it, put me at the end of a book he published called FROM ALMOST ANYWHERE, and gave the original to me.
And it came with a poem.
I lost contact with Seigfried. He was a giant of a man, with a big German chest and voice and huge hands. His paintings are about as original as you can get.
I went to his funeral, and to my surprise there were only about 5 people there. I broke out sobbing, and went into the bathroom. Nobody there knew who I was. And the fact that no one else was crying really pissed me off. Go figure.
Today, this Nobody Wonders, If Siegfried were alive, what historical mural would he draw about today?
NASA, SpaceX, Mission to Mar? Star Wars…etc….
I think he would need a better canvas, don’t you?
Rated XXX…with a HUH?
Nobody Flashes
I like to keep the blog….with some modesty of content…because I am NOT fond of porn. I always wondered about porn of any kind, because to me, why would anyone prefer it to the real thing?
Stupid I know. I know, but due to the wiring of my female brain, I can’t help myself.
Nevertheless, yesterday I watched a video on some lady professor who was teaching a class on sex toys. Really…like college kids need to know about sex toys. Then I watched a video of two black men who were telling everyone some college professor was having couples fornicate in class. As IF there was any college student that has not had sex in 2013.
Right.
Clearly the universities are promoting sex, which is to promote Planned Parenthood, who makes most of its money off—say it all together class—abortions!
The more abortions, the more money Planned Parenthood can give to the democrats!
I always follow the money.
And then…while searching around the net, I found some other VERY interesting pictures.
You see here…a penis bush trimmed in Canada. A baby shower vagina cake…..and a symbol of protest to the current ruler in Yugoslavia.
Clearly, the universities are actually making a big difference! Forgive me (or NOT) for portraying…some disturbing pictures, but then again, we must consider what is happening to ‘art.”
Vagina cake
Why We Shouldn’t Trust the Rich…
Nobody Wonders
Have you been to a modern art museum lately? Well I have. And I can’t for the life of me figure out, how so many rich people think putting a solid color on the wall…is art, and is worth millions. The rich just have to be stupid to pay big money for that stuff.
When the rich get into the driver’s seat of Congress and the Presidency, they start doing very stupid things….like adding another trillions dollars on to our debt, which they did today, because the rich are still in control. 
And I’m here to say: These people are nuts. And I want to present proof of the decline in earth’s rich elites: They’ve actually lost most of their mental capacities. For instance, I present irrefutable proof: The New Wing at the St. Louis Art Museum. It cost $162 million dollars and three years to build.
I was pretty excited to visit the museum, and you can enter from inside the old one, which may or may not be a good idea, because what you see, are Greek Statues.
“Wow…how in the world did they carve lingerie out of stone?” I asked my husband, while we walked past nipple rustling marble. The skin was smooth, almost unbelievable that anyone could even get that texture…skin, cloth, emotion, out of stone.
And then, you enter the New Art museum. Each piece maybe took about…oh..a day at the most to make, and about $100 worth of paint to do.
As I stood in a room looking at two huge ‘painting’ one solid red, one solid black, I ask the guard, while laughing hysterically, what in the world was so special about them?
“You see that red one? It’s not centered.” Sure enough. He was right. The artist purposely off centered it. Wow. Genius. I do that when I hang wall paper all the time. I am, by a millionaire standards., a genius.
Or more than likely…they are all idiots. If some millionaire pays 3 million dollars for a ‘painting” that I could have done in a few hours, they really are nuts. Of course, all the poor people are walking around thinking, “I’ll just go home and paint that old toilet back by the shed and sell it to George Clooney for a few mil. How in the world can somebody get millions for all this crap?”
And so, if you want to see how humanity has really “progressed” since the Greeks walked the earth, go to any modern art museum. It’s all right there. Proof, that the rich are deep down, stupid in everything but how to make money.
That’s why, as the song says, we should “eat them all.”
Unless of course, they happen to collect Greek Statues. Those…might be okay.
(I’ll put these pictures right up there with ugly expensive purses.)
George Bush VS Picasso
Nobody Flashes
Have you SEEN the self-portrait that X-President George W. Bush painted of himself? Well, some guy who calls himself Guccifer hacked into the Bush’s emails and found these two very interesting self-portraits. Obviously, the President…is trying to tell future historians that either (1. He can’t take enough baths to cleanse himself of all his sins, or (2 He wants to be the first President to show that no matter how powerful one man becomes, he still has to take a bath. (3…The parts he most admires about himself are his back and feet or (4. He wants Laura to know how very lonely he is. And if you have read me, I have said before, I don’t think Laura and Bush live together anymore. Just like the Clinton’s, they do their events together, act all lovey, and then go their separate ways. But unlike Bill Clinton, George W. is miserable without Laura. I could be very wrong…but…
While many people admire his painting ability, I find it almost…sad.
But that’s just me. On the other hand, we can all compare it to Picasso’s self-portrait…(One that is NOT pornographic, because Picasso did a lot of those.) and I think I would prefer the bathtub, if I had to pick one to hang on my wall…how about you?
Nobody’s Perfect: The Empty Chair VS the Pregnant Woman
Nobody’s Perfect
Art…we are told its in the eye of the beholder. Here we see two comparisons of the latest art projects, one suggested…one actually implemented.
FIRST: Damien Hirst, who seems to think that pregnant women look the best just before giving birth, has set his statue in the lovely town of Devon…and not everyone is happy about it:(Notice his own excitement!)
Hundreds of residents looked with a mixture of emotions today after a sculpture of a huge, naked, heavily pregnant woman with a sword arrived in their seaside town on a flatbed trailer.
It was their first glimpse of the controversial 70ft tall statue by Damien Hirst which has stirred up controversy since he announced plans earlier this year to “loan” it to Ilfracombe, Devon, until 2032.
A report to the council said objectors considered the statue to be “outrageous, immoral, bizarre, obscene, offensive, disgusting, distasteful, embarrassing, grotesque, disrespectful, insensitive, inappropriate, a monstrosity, tasteless, ugly, vulgar and not in good taste”.
Evidently she is standing on a bunch of legal books, so what does the artist mean? Woman should be the arbitrators of the law because they bear the children, and so if not obeyed they will take a sword to your head?
SECOND: This artist wants to put a replica of Obama, on Mt. Rushmore. And being the creative guy that he is, he has suggested…the empty chair.
What do we get from this symbolism? And most importantly, can it be done?
The good news is: I would suspect that many in America would object just as strongly as their Devon counterparts to this obscene gesture placed next to our greatest Presidents, Obama not being one of them.
Nobody Suggests —the two artists get together and set that mother down on that empty chair, pushing her sword with both hands through that great monstrosity called ‘Obamacare’ …which is lying at her feet. And put THAT statue right front of some Catholic maternity ward.
What? Did you think I was going to point out that Obama’s first debate was not nearly as perfect as he can do…but just about as bad as it could be?
Uh…I just did…in my own artistic way!
Cufflinks, Canadian Bill, and ?
Nobody Wonders
If you think the “rich’ have just a bit too much money…if you think that Occupy Wall Street and the Tea Party people might just get have something in common…you might be right.
Tell me…would you pay $89.9 milion for a painting called “Orange Red Yellow” ?
Or how about $4.2 million for a pair of cufflinks? 
Or how about this: Something that creeps even me out…the new twenty-dollar bill in Canada, not only makes the Queen look like she’s have a bad hair day in the middle of a tree, the twin towers look as if they have naked women on them. What’s even more weird is that everyone is concerned about ..the naked women on the towers, NOT the fact that Nobody Knows why in the world Canada would want to put the twin towers on their $20 dollar bill. I mean, are they planning on building a pair of their own with naked women on them? WTF? How are the families who lost loved ones on 9/11 suppose to take that?
Curiouser and curiouser. 
And Now, a Word From Our Sponcer….
Nobody’s Notes:
Nobody Thinks the world lost one of God’s most beloved works last Good Friday: Thomas Kinkade. Anyone who has ever seen one of his paintings has been touched. He was probably America’s most beloved painter. That man was touched by God…no doubt about it.
I was at the art museum here in St. Louis last week, and I remember staring at a whole room of what I call, “modern crap” art. One such picture took up a whole wall and was entirely…blue. That’s it. No doubt some rich person would have paid millions for it. A six-grader could have painted it.
If just one of Thomas’s pictures had been in that room, I wouldn’t have even glanced at those, as we here in middle earth call them: rip-offs. But, you won’t find Thomas in any hotsy tosty museum, which shows you how far the ‘rich’ have genetically improved their IQ, and how morally lost many of them seem to be.
Nobody Thinks the fact that this “Warrior of Light” as he was known, Good Christian as he was….the fact that he died on Good Friday was no mere coincidence. His incredible talent, is beloved by the “meek” the “humble’ and the “rightous”…and yes, we are all still here. 
The man, had the gift of an angel. And although I think God took him too soon…I think Easter is a fine time to reflect on the gracious light he gave to us all while he was here, and reflect of the real meaning of Easter.
Thomas once said:
“I share something in common with Norman Rockwell and, for that matter, with Walt Disney,” he said. “In that I really like to make people happy.”
Boy, did he.
Hope everyone has a great Holiday with their families….and Happy Easter! 
The World of Public Art: Uh….Uh…Sure.
Nobody Flashes
Tis the season to be jolly, and it seems that there are many jolly politicians, all over the world, who like to fund the very best artists that they can find, to spruce up a city. In case, you like me, won’t be getting to any of these places anytime soon…I decided to jolly up the New Year with…WHAT?
The good people of Philadelphia, are being cheered up by a giant rabbit planted in the middle of some…..square. One that reminds us all, that drinking and walking should not be done at the same time. As you can see, it’s drawing a big crowd in the middle of this jolly season. The most that you need to know about the artist, is that he’s from..the Netherlands, making some subliminal message to us all: do not move to the Netherlands. There is nothing to do there but drink yourself into a stupor.
Here we see another great work of art. Actually, it’s a blown up work of art whose is making a copy of the original work by God, but..let’s not be fussy. This is also, a fine example of what the Netherlands has done since Van Dyke no longer graced the halls of the royal palace. Was is the message? We are all fried. Make your eggs…sunny side up! Don’t step on the yolk. Go home and eat. Your guess is as good as mine.
This is in Germany, where the poor people are starving. They are so hungry that they are growing mushrooms on the side of their buildings, out of the reach of those nasty Greeks who just won’t plant their own.
In London, the artist has immortalized the drunks that hang out on the common streets on Friday night. The first, is the night before, and the next…how they feel when they wake up the next day and find out that they actually survived not only the soccer match, but the party afterwards. I’m sure the British people are just in love with this public display of true genius, that they no doubt paid for. My favorite pick so far.
Jumping across the planet, here we have a perfect example of the Japanese people. They are…robots. They don’t think. They just…are ordered, and they move. If a Japanese artist moved to the Netherlands, he’d probably commit Hari Kari, right on top of the eggs. This proved that trying to melt us all into a NEW WORLD ORDER of clones, might not work. I’m just saying.
In Chicago, the good people decided to express their wishes to put on hard hats, join the union, and…tell me…what’s that thing between his legs? Obviously GE put this in some Plaza to remind you that you only have THREE more days to enjoy your love with Thomas Edison. And that…big yellow bear…is YOU!
Rahm Emanuel, could not resist. He is telling Chicago that…he is watching YOU. And he’s getting tired of it. Look at those blood vessels. If you are near this wonderful example of how the government spends its money, be sure and go back, look that eye in the eye, and gesture! Tell Rahm how much you appreciate his support. I would.
Another Chicago favorite! One to take all the kiddies to see, even though Marilyn looks at least 30 pounds thinner than the original, it’s not bothering this guy from trying to express his joy. A few more inches….
Oh…let’s not stop. Back in Germany, they are expressing how they feel about the Greek Bailout. Or the fact that the Rhino is an endangered species…except here in the United States where the population of Rhino’s is multiplying very successfully. We should send them a few of ours.
But…the Germans are not going to let that misery go on. Here they celebrate the years of their women, filling the children and the nation with…funny looking statues.
Let’s not forget the artist of China, who puts his thumb up at the world, a joy for the people on the beach to ponder while they are surfing, and living life in luxury. Nobody suggests that the Chicago politicians and the Chinese politicians look at life much the same way. An eyeball here, a thumb there…but the Netherlands, and Germany?
They’ve come a long way baby. I don’t know about you…but if I had to choose, I’d pick the dead rabbit. He pretty much sums it all up.
Nobody’s Perfect: Dr. Conrad Murray VS The Cleaning Lady
Nobody’s Perfect
This week’s &$*% -ups (minus, of course, Herman Cain’s ongoing sex scandal of the month) are between a Doctor of Medicine, and a cleaning lady, who wishes to remain anonymous, although Nobody wishes she would come forth…I really do.
I’d like to give her a medal for doing the world a favor.
They were both hired to do certain jobs, and they both managed to make some rather big mistakes, according to their peers.
FIRST: We have Dr. Conrad Murray, the Houston cardiologist who watched a pop star named Michael Jackson basically drug himself into the Twilight Zone and beyond daily. Dr. Murray was the “doctor” who would give Michael all the drugs he wanted, and he was paid handsomely for it.
Wait…did I say that?
Was Dr. Conrad…(cough, cough) actually Michael Jackson’s pusher? If ordering about a million gallons of propofol, (the stuff they use to “put” you under for surgery) and then shipping it to your many girlfriend’s houses, where you could pick it up in your brand new sports car is any indication that Dr. Conrad was doing it for the money…then you’d have to say..uh..yeah. Dr. Conrad:pusher.
And that’s what the Jury found: Dr. Conrad was guilty of not doing his job.
A guard said Murray was concerned with packing up and hiding medicine bottles and IV equipment before telling him to call 911. Prosecutors said Murray was distracted while Jackson was sedated, citing Murray’s cell phone records to show he made numerous calls.
Yep. Calling for help was the LAST thing on the good doctor’s mind, because out of the many phone calls he made, not one of them was for “help” when he suspected that Michael was not breathing.
They gave him…four years.
Actually, this Nobody can see the mistake. Michael was obviously an alien. They revealed that little secret in the movie “Men in Black.” Still, even aliens need compassion.
If the doctor goes to jail in California..he will be out in…five hours, or five days. He lost his medical license–but hey…he can always get a job in the Obama administration as a phone rep.
SECOND: They wouldn’t give us her name. It seems, some very sensible woman, looked at a large piece of junk, and saw that the pan on the bottom had some stains in it. It was her job to clean it up. The problem was the rubber looking bed pan was made to look like it had a stain in it, because the title of the piece of junk was : “When it starts dripping from the Ceiling.” At the bottom of the pan was some painted on…dried rainwater.
She took her trusty cleaner, and scrubbed the “patina” off and now, the $1 million dollar art object which was in the Ostwall Museum: somewhere none of us will EVER go, is ruined. The German artist Martin Kippenberger is dead, so he can’t come and fix it.
To many of us nobodies around the world, that cleaning lady did us all a big favor. One less piece of “modern” art in the world is one less we have to look at and pretend we don’t think it’s a big rip-off.
If that cleaning lady had been taken care of Michael Jackson, you better believe that he would be on a World Tour right now, and his every move would be watched. She would have never allowed him to drug himself to death. She would have gotten her best broom out and hit him on the head and said,
“Knock it off! Get off those stupid drugs! I’m not giving you any more!”
So, Dr. Conrad was NOT doing his job. The cleaning lady was. She was hired to clean. To her that rubber mat looked like a bedpan…and it was her job to clean it. Besides, that’s what the rich (who have never had to clean a bedpan) get…their just reward. Too many of them are facinated by poor’s people’s “junk.” Nobody Thinks they want to display it in their homes and museums so that they can remind themselves once again, how really rich they are.
That’s what happens when the rich treat their “servants” like trash. You could easily make a new bedpan…take you about ten minutes. You can’t make another Michael Jackson.
If the art critics of the world had any sense, they’d had given that cleaning lady a promotion, but somewhere tonight, somebody who owns that “art” piece is heartbroken over his million dollar loss.
Nobody Thinks he should get together with the Jackson family and say: 
“You just can’t get good help nowadays.”
It’s a pity.
About
I am a nobody. If the different classes of America were color-coded, I would be in the yucky brown, one rung up from the bottom. I grew up in Naples, Florida and live near the Mississippi River now with my husband and two dogs. I am part of the slowly disappearing middle-class. I was a musician most of my life: drummer/singer/keyboards—but I retired before the plastic surgery flu hit. I have no degrees, which could be a good thing…depending on how you view our educational system. I do have three patents…but that really doesn’t make me a somebody. The one thing that is constant in my life is my OPINIONS, which i have more than perhaps even Carl Sagan could have imagined…mostly political. (yes…my ancestors were crabby buggers)
Hopefully other nobody’s will put their opinions on my site. But, if you happen to be a somebody, you’re more than welcomed to help out.
It’s my Nobody Opinion that Nobody’s Perfect, and Nobody Cares, that Nobody Knows why Nobody Wins, and when that happens, Nobody Wonders, why Nobody Flashes, why Nobody’s Fooled, but then Nobody remembers that Nobody ALWAYS Reports the truth.
You can email me at joyanna_adams@yahoo.com
Joyanna Adams
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