Armadillo Stones

I live in constant fear that one of these days, by hook or by crook (or nepotism, or sheer stupid luck) I will get a show at an actual gallery, and someone will stomp up to me at the opening, nostrils flared, and say, for example, “So what’s the symbolism of the NAKED MOLE RAT, smart guy!?”

I would like to think that I would gulp out some kind of brilliantly extemporised response, possibly involving postmodernism, where I explain how the mole rat, the other hairless pink mammal, is in fact a symbol of our species, naked in the face of art, and the turnips symbolize…um…the connection with the earth…or something…and the goldfish in the bag is…err….the psyche…carried by…donkeys….

And then I’ll curl into fetal position, whimpering, because hell, I just like naked mole rats and all the rest, and I have no good answers to anybody’s demands that I explain symbolism.

Like this guy. I oughta have some great analysis of the artist as armadillo, emerging from its carapace to trek across the vast plain of art, stumbling into great stylized stone monuments of other armadillo-artists, by which to chart one’s creative course, as one sets out, alone, armed only with a sense of the absurd.

But c’mon, let’s face it, it’s just a painting of an armadillo with a fish on a stick. Because sometimes, you wake up in the night and think “HEY! Armadillo shaped rocks!” and it all just goes from there.

13 x 19 Jumbo Print, edition of 25