This writing only make sense if you see the YSaC post that inspired it.
Ah, finally a quality example of the newest school of art – water stain. There are several methods of accomplishing a “water stain” school painting. The most common is by taking several pipes, each of a different metal and well-rusted as well as assorted widths and lengths, and hanging them over a canvas that is propped at an angle on the floor. The artist then plugs the bottom end of each pipe almost completely and fills each pipe with the liquid of his or her choice. The liquid slowly leaks out of the bottom of the hole and leaves mineral stains on the canvas. The outcome is unpredictable because different amounts of rust leave different amounts of mineral and different colors are achieved by different liquid types.
A less-common method is called NPD, for newspaper print dye. Some artists wad up pages from the newspaper on their canvas and then hose down the ad so the ink runs onto the canvas. Newcomers to this art form really enjoy themselves because they get to read the Sunday funnies, but their attempts are laughed at by those in-the-know because the pattern left by the Sunday funnies is too recognizable and formatted. The posers in this sub-genre use only the newspaper ad section because of the bright colors. Those a little more trained do include a few strips of ad paper, but that’s just for the striking dissonance of bright dye running over the gray of the newsprint that occasionally gets stuck to the canvas. Those on the farthest fringe of this sub-genre actually piss on the newsprint. Depending on how much and what they’ve had to drink, the urine stains and the dye stains both complement each other and clash in the most jarring way imaginable. These rare pieces of art are the most valuable, but buyers are ashamed to hang them on display because they smell like – well, like wino piss.
- I once got paid to spend the summer telling lies to little kids. I ran a mountain man program at a district Boy Scout camp. I told my guests I was born in my log cabin and I traded for everything I had. Late evenings I shot muzzleloader rifles with campers and then told ghost stories around the fire. Oh, how I wish that would pay enough to be my career instead of just a one-time summer job.