Why I Tried Making Sense of These Art Things
So I’m cleaning my attic last week when I find this dusty art book from college. Flipping through it, all these Cubism and Surrealism words hit me like confusing alphabet soup. I mean, Picasso’s paintings look like my kid smashed Lego together, and Dalí’s clocks melt like grilled cheese? Why’s this stuff important anyway?
How I Started Wrestling with Art History
First, I grabbed three library books. Big mistake. Page one hit me with "post-structuralist deconstructionism" - felt like getting slapped with a dictionary. Tossed those aside and just stared at pictures instead. Spent two hours squinting at Braque’s violin chunks and Magritte’s floating apples like a detective at a crime scene.
The Lightbulb Moment
After wasting Sunday afternoon, it clicked: these artists weren’t trying to draw pretty flowers. They were rebelling like punk rockers with paintbrushes. Made myself flashcards:
- Cubism = See everything at once? Break objects into geometric shards like a smashed mirror.
- Surrealism = Brain on weird dreams? Paint impossible creatures and melting clocks straight from nightmares.
Taped ’em above my coffee maker. Morning caffeine + bizarre art = surprisingly clear.
The Messy Part Where I Failed Twice
Tried explaining this to my neighbor Dave during his BBQ. Said Cubism’s like looking at a broken beer bottle while dizzy. Dave frowned: "Sounds like you just described my divorce." Second attempt: showed him Dalí’s lobster telephone. He yelled: "Why’s seafood on a phone?! That’s worse than my ex’s cooking!" Total disaster.
How I Finally Made My Cheat Sheet
Gave up on fancy words. Drew stick figures in my notebook:
- Cubism: cube-headed guy seeing front/side/back of his fridge simultaneously.
- Surrealism: melting couch with eyeball cushions and flying fish remotes.
Scribbled it all on a napkin during lunch. Done.
Why This Matters
Realized you don’t need art degrees to "get" this stuff. Our brains already get broken mirrors and weird dreams. Next time you see chaotic shapes or clocks dripping like candle wax? Point and say: "Oh, early 1900s rebellion art." You’ll sound fancy while remembering Dave’s lobster phone trauma.
