PINK

  PINK  I just saw an old art joke --
         "PINK" in purple ink --
  A T-shirt on a sad young girl
         Stalking out of (what else?)
         A gallery, and thought
  Of the drowning man
         Trapped
                   Beneath a grate
         An inch beneath the surface.
   He breaths through a straw
         Penetrating the screen,
         Will live only if he
   Inhales slowly,
          Calms his anxiety,
                   Relaxes until
   He dies from hypothermia,
         Or -- if in the Carribean or
         The Gulf of Cortez --
   From starvation,
         But never from thirst
         Or the color pink.

The Artist

My son, Aelric, was an artist for four years and has since graduated to other pursuits (our and the world’s loss!). He was brilliant, creative and fast. His pallette was primaries plus black and white, mainly acrylic, occasionally tempera.

He used only a large one-inch flat brush and a small round brush whose handle was employed more than its fibers. He painted canvas, masonite, all kinds of paper, and even sticks. His works can be found on walls, desks and cards all around the world, as well as a few right here.

He reveled in color and was fearless in its application, with no pretense of representation. The act of painting was purely performance — he loved his audience and kept a constant commentary as he layered with abandon.

He set only one rule — he was done at the request of the audience. Without this subtle intervention, the continually added color gradually merged into an amorphous mass of gray.

Victor Vasarely gave us Op Art, Andy Warhol, Pop Art, and Aelric Kofoid, Stop Art.