She Wears a Good Hat
When I saw Melania in her white hat, I wondered if she had Carla Sarkozy in mind, who was once ‘The First Lady of France’. For years I was in love with Carla Bruni. I offered to do her portrait. I tried to arrange ‘Her Dream’ which is (still) to take a road trip on Route 66. I would love to see her and her husband in Greycloud, pulling into a classic burger joint on our National Highway. How about this car? Out steps Carla wearing Melania’s white outfit she leant her for her On The American Road experience. Girlfriends!
When Melania became the First Lady, I offered to be her husband’s Art Buddy. My ex-alien friend, that had special outer space blood flowing though her viens, was claiming she and her Cosmic Race made everything that had to do with Art. There was a irrating T.V. show to back up her claim. She hated the idea of me being in charge of all the White House Art, I at President Trump’s beck and call in case he become annoyed at a certain piece.
The First Lady was in her element. Some people can wear a hat. Melania, Carla, and Clint wear a damn good hat! So do I. I wore the biggest cowboy hat ever made yesterday to the Church Basement Dinner For the Poor. I volunteered to help finish the bathroom mural. Right now, I am having trouble with my picture download, or I would parade around in it in a video.
Melania deserves to become famous, and deserves the world’s respect, for standing by her man. I own a theory that Donald thought becoming President would help bring out his true inner self, that he became attached to at the age of twelve. It’s a pubescence kind of thing, that usually disappears when you lay down with a few women, and, fall in love. Narcissus fell into deep trouble when he beheld his reflection. Donald my have noticed his wife – for The First Time!
If I saw Carla, or Melania, coning at me down the street, with that gaze under their hat, I would throw my hands up, and…………surrender! I would experience Ego Death!
To: The President of the United States of America
From: Jon Presco
President: Royal Rosamond Press
Dear Mr. President
Last night I began to compose a sarcastic letter to you in regards to the bust of Winston Churchill by the Bohemian Sculptor, Jacob Epstein. This morning I awoke with a change of heart when I finally heard the First Ladies plea to the world;
“For God’s sake, will someone be my husband’s best friend. I can’t be his best friend. I am a mother with a son to raise!”
I had an epiphany! You never had a best friend. I asked myself – Why? I deduced your inner mirror is on the blink. You may be incapable of introspection. This may be the result of being the richest kid on the block – and New York. However, it is coming out you do not like to read. How about contemplate a work of art? The world is now very curious as to where you gather your opinions. A best friend is often the source for most people. Best friends go off to a special place where they are beautiful and honest mirrors to one another. A best friend has permission to be critical with care, and tell you the truth, with love. To allow another human being to make up who you are, is the greatest experience one can own, especially when you are both artists. Did you know Winston Church is an artist. He loves the time he takes – to create! His empty canvases are telling! They are mirrors on the wall that bid us to look deeper, and behold the truth.
Here’s your letter I was composing in my mind before I went to bed….
Dear Mr. President;
Like millions of Americans, I hate your guts because you are so stupid! You know nothing about art, and, are unteachable. For this reason I highly suggest I be your Artist In Residence so I can protect the valuable works of art that belong to the American People, who with dignity and respect for the Office, let you borrow these works, for your edification and contemplation so that you will know what a Great Nation We are!
If you can put up an old army cot down in the basement next to the boiler, with kerosene lantern, I would know bliss. For when I heard you and your Generals yakking it up in the Oval Office, I would strap on my hunchback, go upstairs, and as your Brass mocks me, I will cover our works of art in plastic, so you pussy-grabbing freaks wont spill your booze all over our National Treasures – along with your precious Bodily Fluids.”
When I awoke, I was in a conciliatory mood, and a patriotic one. I owe it to my President, and my Fellow Americans to be serious – and try to make a difference in your life. I was going to bid you to contemplate this bust of Churchill, for it is a window into the soul of the British Endeavor, that was swayed by the rule of the most amazing Kings and Queens that ever walked the earth. Winston is closely related to Princess Diana Spencer, whose son will sit on the throne of England. King Henry Fitzempress Plantagenet is said to have built a labyrinth at Woodstock where he kept his paramour, Fair Rosamond, safe from his wife, Queen Eleanore. Henry was the most educated man in the world. He claimed he descends from the Kings of Troy, where Helen was taken after she was captured by Paris. Consider the beautiful women you have captured.
Henry’s grandfather had a zoo, and came close to ruling all of the western world, when his heir went down in the White Ship disaster. His daughter, Empress Matilda, made powerful moves on the Chessboard of the World, and thus the Plantagenet Dynasty was born. The War of the Roses stems from these Unions, the blood ties, that born real stories, including ‘The Game of Thrones’. Study Matilda and know that you are poised to replicate her vision. It is blatantly obvious you do not have a clue of how much power you own – that would instantly humble most leaders. Humility – is wasted on you! You are consuming all the humility of the world. You need to stop – and THINK!
I owned a vision Mr. President, of you tugging on a string that leads to my humble Bohemian abode down in your basement, and, I arise. A hot cup of coffee awaits us as we sit before the bust of Churchill and contemplate the meaning of – it all! I would be your Art Buddy, and not your teacher. Then, I beheld the sad, and dangerous truth.
On further investigation, I discovered you have rekindled the Iconoclastic Wars that my Rosemondt ancestors found themselves in the middle of. To my horror, I discovered you use a work of art to bludgeon President Obama with. You use Art to go to War. You use the word “enemy” on U.S. Citizens. If Churchill was alive, he would come across ‘The Pond’ and kick your ass: for Britain never had a better friend then the U.S.A when it came to defeating the Real Enemy. You sully the word! You grab the pussy of beautiful women, but, it is clear you don’t know what to do with it. You grab all the power one can own, and you don’t know what to do with it. I suspect Beauty itself is your mortal enemy. Mr. President, you are a very ugly man!
I must now declare you ‘The Enemy of Art’. You are in the company of Evil Men. Not since the defeat of Hitler, by the friends, Winston Churchill, and F.D.R, has there been one who dare take that Dictator’s place. You mock these great men. They hated the SS Gestapo, who stole some of the greatest art made in the west. You need to look in the mirror I hold up to you, and behold the Monster. You need to look at the artist who rendered that bust – and repent! Consider Henry and Beckett.
As it is now, you are irredeemable. You are damaged goods. You and Spicer made it very clear that you see ‘The American People’ as OBJECTS – your objects! Human beings are not objects. They can be called SUBJECTS if our land was a Kingdom. Most Presidents use the title ‘My Fellow Americans’. Since you took office, you have not addressed US with the respect WE ARE ALL DUE!
As things are now, there is no hope for you. To say this is to say there is no hope for US. You have no right to remove Hope from this Freedom Land, or, play devious games with works of art, as it they were your chess pieces. I will blog on our special relationship once a week. Whether you like it or not, I am your ‘Art Buddy’.
Because you are so stupid, and know very little, I suspect you already have a ‘Art Buddy’. Care to tell the American People who, he, or she – is? Hitler was an artist. When he tried to get into the Berlin Academy, a instructor noticed something disturbing in his cityscapes. They were devoid of people. Did Hitler find all the German People – unworthy?