'Art' and Afremov.

One of my main aims in life is to become a cultured gent (although without the moustache preferably. In fact, scratch that, I would carry one off very well). However, one of the stumbling blocks I have encountered on the road to 'snobbery' is a real aversion to Modern 'Art', mainly because I think most of it is a contrived pile of pish. I group most of the pieces of modern 'art' I have had the misfortune to encounter into two categories.

Group One: THIS IS NOT ART.

To get a true sense of what I insinuate with this group, all you need to do is look up either Tracey Emin (whose face has to win 'The Most Terrifying Face of All Time' award) or anything that has been nominated for the Turner Prize. I mean, how is a bed, art? Does it mean I could show my bed off and be awarded with an exhibition? DOES IT?!

Tracey Emin's bed.

Apparently, the bed is to symbolize Emin's intimacy with the world in regards to her private life. To me, all it shows is she's an untidy, lazy bastard. She also used worn pants in this piece. I rest my case.

Group Two: A FIVE YEAR OLD COULD PAINT THIS.

This group annoys me more than Tracey Emin. The painting below was crafted by Mark Rothko and is simply titled 'Orange and Yellow'. Now, I'm not being funny but I genuinely could recreate this. In fact, a drawing of a stick man has more artistic integrity than this. But the suckerpunch to this absurd piece of 'art' (if it can be called that)? It sold for $86 million very recently...

You just can't rid the world of stupidity it seems. And you know what, my cat could paint this, that is how much I think of it. A true waste of canvas.

However, this blog was not just a rant (Yes, you may wipe your brow in relief now). It seems that I may have overcome the stumbling block previously mentioned as I have recently discovered the work of Leonid Afremov and I am in love. His paintings are true art. They're pretty, they're colourful, they tell a story and they invoke emotions. Isn't this what art should be like? Not like the crown colour chart above?

No caption required.

Perhaps he's not as successful as these other artists because his paintings portray real life or perhaps they could be described as 'pedestrian' but alas, that is the world most of us live in and most of us are pedestrians, peddling our way through normality. Simply put, they are beautiful and if galleries were filled with this sort of thing, rather than Tracey Emin's disgustingly stained bed sheets, I'm sure they would attract a bigger audience.

The only thing that worries me about this though is that having a favourite artist might be the harbinger of impending maturity or adulthood. I sincerely hope not anyway.

What do Pete Burns and Ray Winstone have in common? Nothing...

Okay, I'm not going to lie to you, I can attribute many things to my idiocy. But I don't have the time nor the energy to list them and I know, you, my readers, don't have the time to read them either.

However, last night, I seemed to surpass all known boundaries of stupidity and I am certainly paying for it today. So, allow me to set the scene...

I am sitting in the lounge, watching 'Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World' on my laptop. Now, usually when I watch movies, I am known to be quite fidgety, whether it's clicking my toes or shaking my knees (this is beginning to sound like a bizarre dance routine, it's not). However, the source of my entertainment that night appeared to be the cap from my mini hairspray. I was having great fun, biting round the edges but this wasn't enough. No, I thought it would be a great idea to suck it to my face and see how long I could do it for. (Insert awkward elipsis here).

I can only say that it was the biggest mistake of my life. I went into the bathroom about half an hour later and I got the most enormous shock of my life when I saw Pete Burns staring back at me in the mirror. It was horrific. I panicked for a little bit before resigning to myself that when I woke up in the morning, my lips would be back to their normal, lippy-like self and all evidential nonsense from the night before would be forever erased.

I was wrong.

My lips are still a purple-ly, brown colour so I look like a Zombie. The swelling has gone down but has been replaced with a purple circle where the edge of cap had been sucked to my face. The top half resembles a paedo-y pencil moustache and the bottom line makes my bottom lip look like a black man's. I have to admit, applying a circle of concealer around my lips today has to be one of the weirdest cover-up jobs I've ever had to do...

I can't really justify my actions. I have no idea why I did it but certainly, I wouldn't have done it had I known the consequences. So I guess the moral of the story is, don't suck a cap to your face, even if it's fun.

That's some pout...

Anyway, moving swiftly on...

Today, Mark and me went to see 'The Sweeney', the remake of the classic 70's cop show starring Ray Winstone and Ben Drew (aka, Plan B). Now, before I launch into my tirade, I feel I need to point out that I do actually like Ray Winstone. He's a brilliant actor and has a really distinct voice with adds to his characters. However, if someone had asked me to write a list of 'Things I Never Want To See', directly behind 'The Human Centipede' (Sorry, bad pun was bad) would be seeing Ray Winstone kicking off his underwear and giving a remarkably younger lady a right good shagging...

It's just not right. Grunting away whilst he romantically pumps this lady in a public bathroom (fifteen minutes into the film I may add). Then, to top it all off, he does it again, after ripping off this lady's dress and jumping on her. BOAK. I did not pay to see this. I did not want to see this. It does not add to the film. Seriously, all of the film's good points were washed away in two single torrid moments. Eurgh. Seriously, if I have to witness another Ray Winstone sex scene in my life again, it will be too soon. In fact, I'd rather drill my eyeballs out...

The worst part? The actress who he was with is Hayley Atwell, the actress who played Peggy Carter, who played the love interest in 'Captain America'. Now, imagine, locking lips with Chris Evans, one of the hottest men alive and then being told your next role involves filming sexy time with Ray Winstone. I do believe that this is a major step down.

Why?