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The Breen Family just got back from a Grand Cayman Island trip courtesy of Voyage.tv. I entered a contest on Twitter in 140 characters or less describing my dream vacation, and despite my crazy ramblings which contained many <"}))><, I won! My wife, 10 year-old-son and I giggled when we stepped from the plane and were blasted with moist tropical air that licked us all over like Northern popsicles! We checked into the luxurious Marriott Grand Cayman Beach Resort on Seven Mile Beach and Mrs. Breen, who usually has something snide to say about the clashing decor of pretentious hotels was slack-jawed and silent! High praise indeed! I looked furtively around after check-in to see if there were any sneaky marketers lurking around with the intention of selling me a condo, but the coast was clear, Voyage.tv was true to their word!
Voyage.tv shoots hi-def videos of cool vacations spots all over the world which you can see online, and are fond of giving away twitter contest trips which you have vastly better odds of winning than your local high school turkey raffle! On Grand Cayman, first thing, Mrs. Breen, Breen Junior and I rented car and took off to explore the island. It was great fun terrorizing the local British territory island population by driving on the left only some of the time! Give Way! Give Way! we screamed as we barreled into "roundabouts!"
For our transgressions we ended up in Hell where my son made pals with Satan! Next door to the Hell Gift Shop is the Hell Post Office where you mail old school postcards with the Hell postmark. The Hell PO also has a free wifi hotspot so you can twitter all the hokey photos you've shot so far. Beware DATA roaming on your cell phone throughout the islands if you have a US plan as you'll end up spending $20 a minute, which can add up fast!
Eddie soon joins his son in hell for staging the next corny shot at the Grand Cayman Botanic Park.
A great beach to imbibe and eat under the palms is at Rum Point. It is very hard to leave this beautiful spot until you get the insanely high bill for the crappy sandwich you got at which point you storm off in a drunken huff!
In front of our hotel are manmade reefs full of fish, that the guests feed with bits of bagel swiped from the breakfast buffet.
Things get a little scarier when you sail out to Stingray City, a sand bar swarming with huge, alien, black saucer-shaped creatures with long evil swords for tails, one of which by the way, recently stabbed 'The Crocodile Hunter' Steve Irwin through the heart. Captain Dexter and first mate Samuel take us out for several hours on Fantaseas, a trimaran, and assured us the rays were safe as long as we didn't step on them, which was, less face it, pretty hard to avoid! So I decided to be brave and threw my son in. When he appeared unharmed, I eased in after him and soon found myself being mugged by large hungry monsters who wanted me to drop the stinking squid I'd been given to feed them with. No problem there, here you go, take all of it!
Anyway, it was over before we knew it, and back to reality, but I was inspired to start a Sea Captain painting based on the trip! It's might say something like 'Captain Dexter obsessively seeks the great white stingray who inexplicably refuses to eat squid from his lips!' Many thanks to Voyage.tv for the memorable trip, my son won't stop saying, you remember when..?!
On another topic - are you in the market for a condo in Washington, DC? Or know someone who is? A Breen collector is selling his beautiful place, which just happens to have Breens hanging in just about every room. See if you can spot them in the link below! Click on the photo below to see the whole place and see if you can find all the breens tucked away. Email me and I'll send along his email address to you. If you know someone who needs a condo in DC, he'll give you a $1000 finders fee, or maybe you could work out a deal for some breenage? I don't know, he never mentioned that!
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Ahoy!
Years ago I had a boat, and I would ferry my friends and their kids over to Plum Island for barbecues and volleyball. The kids called me Captain Chris (Chris being the name people know me by in the unreal non-painter world). So this is kind of a self portrait dealing with an art problem I have, which is making anything I paint look like it is supposed to look, especially hands! I know this is why people like my art - I try to make a dog and it comes out looking like a half-human mutant cat and then oh well it looks kind of cool so move on. I populate a canvas with these mistakes and Jesus, it looks great, I don't know why, I would say its the hand of God but I don't believe his hand is doing anything other than trying to squish the life out of me as I dance around trying to dodge the stabbing index finger. I don't have a prebreen on this one, big mistake, since this was a pretty cool nude before I launched into it. But its probably better off there is no record of what she looked like for dignity's sake. I found this and a bunch of other nudes in Brimfield, MA, so in the future you shall be treated to other naked breens, which will be a good series topic in itself - Breen Exposed! I thought it would be funny to drag this 'Life Painting' session into my Captain series, and it works well as it always does when the underlying painting is great. The unapologetically overweight model and the painters in the background are elements which strip away any sexuality and proclaim, 'This is a clinical study of the human form, this is ART not porno! So if this painting is arousing you, it is YOUR problem, nothing on me!' I turned the nude and main painter into captains, the old lady into a sailor because someone has to do the work! Text says, 'Captain Chris Found It Difficult To Render Hands!' (although if you use the 'to melt down' meaning rather than the 'represent by artistic means', Capn' Chris renders quite well!) Capn' Chris' hands are the most poorly or well rendered of the lot with grotesque freakishly long nails! No wonder he can't paint hands - how can he even hold a brush?! Cognoscenti of breenishness will recognize a stalk eye in the flying sea serpent, a regular staple in the old days but rarely seen in recent paintings. This painting is incredibly balanced, and after I breened most of it, I remembered my old college art history course where they would describe how your eyeballs are dragged around the canvas by the different elements and colors. So I put a spot of intense red on the paint brush to bring your eye to Capn' Chris' hands. To further help your eyes around the painting, I peppered little red arrows, like on a weather map showing wind direction. Unfortunately, I realized red probably wasn't the best color to use for this eyeball nudging, as the color demands you look everywhere at once creating chaos. So as usual, the work ends up in a free for all visual food fight. The strange halibut at the bottom of the painting, being flat fish, lay on top of the canvas, defying any attempt at inclusion in the painting's perspective. This painting isn't for sale yet, as I'm putting together a bunch of Captains so I can have a show somewhere. But I will let anyone on my mailing list know first when a show takes place, so they can have first crack at the paintings. Regards, Eddie
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A while back luthier extraordinaire, Al Reid, proposed I paint an electric guitar which he would have clear-coated and assemble. Not a piece of crap thrift store hunk of unplayable wood, but a new professional instrument that any musician in the world would feel comfortable taking up on stage. Finally! A Breen worthy of being set on fire by Hendrix or smashed on stage by Pete Townsend! Well here it is! the pictures don't do it justice, I'll be taking better ones later. Your pick won't be scraping of hunks of sun and finger because after I painted the body it was professionally clear coated. I call it Frying Flying Fingers, or FFF for short, pronounced phhfffff. I always thought the sunburst style was kind of dull so I breened it into a supernova, and laced in burning, impossibly long fingers. On the back is the guitar's brain, necessary to help you complete your song, since, as a musician, you are completely drugged up and can hardly stand - get to rehab before it's too late!
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Here's a little from Al about the guitar -
This guitar was built by Al Reid Guitars It is a one of a kind custom made Telecaster.The neck,pickups and hardware are authentic Fender FSR Standard Telecaster parts. The body is custom made of Ash and is back routed to accommodate the upgraded electronics. A 4-way selector switch with high end controls expand the tonal versatility. Before assembly the entire body and headstock were treated to a very special encounter with Eddie and then clear coated to protect the image by Julian Miller at Sublime Restoration. Julian is well know for his work with the Whitney Museum in New York .Besides being an extraordinary art piece this guitar is a fully functional professionally prepared instrument. Al Reid Guitars also offers any modifications desired.
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This #1 and I'm selling it for $3500 + shipping. If you want to modify the electronics, Al can upgrade it for an additional fee. If interested in seeing more shots or buying this guitar email me or go to the ebay listing.
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Sometimes I start a painting and it wheels out of control like a spinning car on black ice and slams into a tree! This is one of those!
I had a breen lying around that really wasn't complete and I didn't like very much. It started out as a little girl.
PREBREEN
Since this was painted by someone named E. Burger, who I couldn't find any info on (and unfortunately accidentally painted over the signature), I pretended it was by Former Supreme Court Chief Justice Warren E. Burger and made the portait into a judge. She is sitting in a brain surrounded by neurons beset py plaques and tangles which precede Alzheimers. Although there is no medical evidence to support this, I am firmly convinced my own skull is filled with these or soon will be!
POSTBREEN
Of course, she resented this treatment and stubbornly resisted being incorporated into the painting in any pleasing aesthetic way! Insolent child! But can I blame her? When I scrawled the text on the painting, I did it in large shouting Uncle Sam Wants You enlistment letters as thought that would give some meaning to this paint pizza.
WRONG!
So I've been glaring at her for the past year or two across the studio while she harbors a tight little smug smile, nyaah, nyaah, nya, nyaahing me. And when I had the idea of rebreening a Breen, there was no place for her to hide!
I am on a sea captain series as most of you know, and thought it might be funny to turn a young girl into a grizzled captain. I think we can all agree, the result is creepier than one could hope! I aged the face and gave her light blue eyes and popped the Captain's Hat on her head. I also gave her a slightly open smile with very bad teeth, a technique all who vandalize art instinctually know from elementary school. The text, which appears to be jumbled, is perfectly readable once you figure out how. There is a spilled wine bottle at his/her elbow and I threw in a bunch of arbitrary eyes, simply because I could. Mrs. Breen thinks this one looks TOO creepy and suggested I throw in some flowers or balloons to soften things up like I sometimes do. But I decided to let it ride. After all, there's no reason I shouldn't float a creepy nonsensical breen every now and then! Lets face it! It's what I do best!
This one isn't for sale yet.
POST POSTBREEN
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PREBREEN
This is the first painting completed in my new studio! I put up a Sea Captain wall but had this Germanic bearded man who was odd man out. He was almost a Captain. He was old and had a beard. But he had a furtive, guilty look, not the confident, wise or simple curmudgeony look usually draped on an old salts mug.
A fishing net stretches like a spider web behind the Captain and catches fish I have either caught or eaten (striper, bluefish, squid, herring, lobster, clam, although the last two I've taken liberties with in the rendering as they are not usually cycloptic organisms.) I admit I have not eaten or caught the blind cave fish in the bottom of the painting, I just added them arbitrarily. I changed his pipe into a scythe and he holds out his hands, which have fish blood on them. This is not an anti-fishing painting, as I love to fish, but does deal with the ambivalent feelings I do have towards the activity! He is a killer of sea life, it is natural, but he is not comfortable with his role. Time to go to The Clam Box and grab a bite!
POSTBREEN
If you are interested in purchasing this painting, go HERE.
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When I got my new iPhone 3gs, I was disappointed I couldn't screw it into tripod, so I hacked this together -
http://budurl.com/7pay
This rig can be used for almost any camera phone, one size fits all. My poor cast-off Sony Ericsson candy bar camera phone fit quite snugly! Maybe someone already offers this tripod mount for sale somewhere - I don’t know. I did an exhaustive search for as long as my limited attention span would allow, about an hour, and couldn’t find anything, so I just made one myself.
It's been reviewed on iPhone Saviour - http://budurl.com/32tv
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In our newish house, whenever I sat down in the bathroom, I noticed my eye would always be glued to this blank spot on the wall.
This was a place that needed to be filled with art, so I took this small portrait of a 1920s? businessman, made him into a doctor
and hung him there, where he could stare back at the occupant of the throne. He says, "Do not be alarmed! I am a Physician! Don't get up!
My interest is purely clinical..and I've seen it all!" He is holding some kind of invasive instrument and floating next to him is an enema bag.
Here is how it looks hanging in the bathroom!
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PREBREEN
When my son was born, his still bloody squalling wrinkled body was put in my hands, and it was as if a switch was pulled in my brain. An instant surging electric connection! I thought then he was the most beautiful thing on this planet. After getting back from the hospital, my wife and I would take every opportunity to shove our 10 pounds of poop smelling heaven under the nose of every adult that came within range, eager to share the beauty of our creation. Yes! Our DNA made that beautiful thing! What a miracle! Women would fawn over him,. Men, a little more standoffish, couldn't they see what I saw, that this brilliant baby Jesus thing was so pure and golden you just wanted to weep for joy whenever the thought of Him even entered your mind!
Of course, I shook it off eventually. We found some photos of Little Breen's just born visage the other day, and I had trouble reconciling the memory I had with the reality of the photo. Because he was, well, hideous. In certain countries of this world the father, seeing the imperfection and not wishing to offend God, would unceremoniously take the child out back and drown him in the well. I realized that either our friends were just humoring us when Baby Breen was born, although many women seem to be vastly more susceptible to baby voodoo than men. And though Mrs. Breen concurred that our son did not, in these photos, appear to be as cute as we had thought at the time, she will still coo like a pigeon when a new born enters the room. I slink to a corner trying to hide my horror of the newly minted monster.
When I found this giggling painting in the flea market last week, I decided to unmask it, and bring out its true nature. The original background, painted in dark orange, reddish, brown had a kind of hellish look, so I kept much of it. This is not a baby you would shake. It would only make it angry. You don't want to make this baby angry. The painting was a little too harsh so I added some flowers to lighten the mood!
Of course, you know I'm just kidding. YOUR baby is beautiful!
POSTBREEN
To buy this painting go HERE.
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I've had this gentleman moping around, getting way too comfortable in the studio.
PREBREEN
He looked kind of sad, weary really. He had that kind of look that says, "Oh crap! It's Monday!"
So I thought, you want Monday, I'll give you Monday fella!
I put him in a yoke like an ox, so he could drag his huge steel, chained and weighted Monday around
behind him, all Marley ghost-like. Then I gave him a grindstone to hold because he has to work and
shove his schnoze against it - I made his nose a little bloody since he works so hard. Rats run a race at
the base of the painting and bills flutter down, reminding us why he is locked into this rut.
After all this, I realize it needed more. After all, how could he continue, how is Monday even remotely endurable
without...without..COFFEE! So I turned his head into a giant coffee cup and filled it right up with black java, the
breenish beverage of choice, 6 cups a day!
POSTBREEN
To buy this piece, please goHERE.
I was going to do all the days of the week, but Mrs. Breen very sensibly asked, "what are you going to do with Tuesday?
There is nothing special about Tuesday. No one even care about Tuesday!" I had to agree with her. Maybe Friday, Saturday or
Sunday, but Tuesday and Wednesday are hard to work up any enthusiasm over. I'm undecided. Do any of you have any
feelings at all about those faceless days that just seem to be filler for the rest of the week? Filler! I just answered my own question!
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