I both love and hate irony. And, no, it’s not Like Rain on your Wedding Day. That’s just Murphy’s Law — for some. For others, it’s perhaps a warning/blessing in disguise, or just a wry comment at the start of a new journey.
Anyway, back to Irony. I remember it being my very good friend when I was young, but I think I may be losing that connection the older I get. For the young, it’s a stance, usually dressed in black, one that often finds itself keeping company with walls, for some reason. Irony and walls. Leaning against them, generally speaking. Looking out at the sad parade of cohabitants who think they’re the Alpha and Omega, while we, leaning against those walls, certainly knew/know better. This is particularly prevalent at certain kinds of parties, of course. Art openings, poetry readings, and other chance gatherings in our misspent youth. Much tougher to be ironic at louder events, like football games and Rock concerts. Dionysus doesn’t really do irony.
Many a fond memory, regardless. Not necessarily of the food and drink, the art, or the openings themselves, but mostly my ironic leaning-buddies, and our profoundly witty, scorching, mad-black commentary on said events.
Today, however, I think the world is in a post-ironic era, similar to post-postmodern, but governed by the Death of Subtlety and good old Murphy’s Law. Tired. We’re all so damn tired. And to be successfully ironic, you really need to be energetically wide awake, while pretending to be too sleepy to survive without those walls.
In short, it’s like Rain on Your Wedding Day.
More on that Irony thing-a-nabob in my next post.
Some recent paintings below. More playing with Krita brushes, especially three in their Sketching group. Freehand with those, and then using a few filters to expand color range, amplify details, and elevate textures:
