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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PREBREEN
POSTBREEN
Painting is about 20"X16", acrylic on oil or acrylic stratched canvas, painted over an existing painting. Text says, 'Our First Gay President Was A Republican Who Loved The Theater!"
You may be thinking to yourself, now where the heck did this come from?! Mrs. Breen and I were having dinner with a friend last weekend when he told us about his relationship with his mother, who sounded kind of like an older Ann Coulter. She hadn't come to visit him, ever, as she disapproved of his same sex partner, whom he has been together with for over 20 years. She also disapproves of Massachusetts, liberals, Gays, the President, and everything that isn't leave it to beaver. While this has been swirling in my head, I've been inundated with Lincoln news since it was the 200th anniversary of his birth on the 12th. Around this time I read an article about a book by C.A. Tripp positing that Lincoln was gay. This would mean the perhaps the greatest president the US ever had, a Republican, was gay! The book has been around since 2005, I don't know how I missed that one.
I had this Hockneyesque portrait kicking around and he said, "Lincoln is just all right with me!" so I went to work. The theater masks he holds are African masks, in honor of the Great Emancipation and the stars hold obscure symbols related to Lincoln. I made a Lincoln hat in one, which then reminded I should also put a hat on Lincoln, but a tiny jaunty one. All the portraits I've ever seen of Lincoln or anyone from the era show them with a serious facial expression. So I hung an ill-fitting smile on him, giving him a break from the depression he is rumored to have suffered from. I kept most of the hair, the shirt and the nose from the original portrait, and 'Lincolnized' the eyes. They are the original eyes, just enclosed with different shaped Lincoln lids.
The color on this painting is more vibrant than appears here.
If you are interested in buying this work, go to my Ebay store.
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This is a rebreen of a lightly hastily breened valentine I gave to my wife in years gone by. As you cn see from the first photo, I was racing the clock before she woke up and of course, after a chuckle, the painting ended back up in the studio, where it has languished ever since. This painting is not intended to make fun of the old and smelly, among whose numbers I count myself, but to lament the loss of romance which seems to accompany middle age smelliness. I love this portraits puppy dog eyes, so I turned him into an old dog, although he also looks like a giant rabbit now.
PREBREEN
POSTBREEN
To buy this painting, go HERE
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Painting is 24"X20", acrylic on oil or acrylic canvasboard, painted over an existing painting. Text says, 'Nurse Nancy Doesn't Know Art...But She Knows How To Cure It!' Also, 'Art Morgue, Room for 1 more honey!'This kind of painting would usually fall under the umbrella of quirky portraits I would not touch, being pretty perfect as is - but the vast yawning spaces of brown around her proved too enticing! I goof on post modern art and do a pretty good copy of a sick pirate (draw for talent test!) from The Art Instruction Schools. Also note the Twilight Zone reference(often haunting my works) and an Ozymandias self-portrait at the bottom.
This painting is already sold.
PREBREEN
POSTBREEN
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I have piles of prebreens lying around and none of them were volunteering for a work-over, so I grabbed this reluctant participant a couple of days ago and strapped him in. I wasn't quite sure where I was going with this when I started, but his hair reminded me of a rooster's coxcomb, so I turned him into a giant chicken thing. He also reminded me of the new Governor of Minnesota in his touchy-feely Stuart Smiley role on SNL years ago, so I gave him multi-fingered chicken wings. I always forget how hit or miss I am in rendering hands, so I decided to face my fear head on and put a hand on the side of his head.
Then I mused - where am I going with this, what does it mean? I thought of idea after idea, writing them down enthusiastically, then cooling to them. After that, I noticed the ear hole and thought it reminded me of stigmata, which in turn led me to think of Jesus, so I popped him in there too. Crazy thing happened though - after I painted Jesus, he looked so concerned, I started falling under his spell a little ... but I shook it off and tried not to look at him too much. Beware of this Jesus, he is a powerful little savior and will not be denied!
I realized that this Jesus does love me! He does! But my brain finished with the thought, but isn't IN love WITH me!
My son came in and said, "Dad? Is that a self portrait?
"Well no, does he look like me?"
"Kinda, especially those."
"What?"
"His man-boobs."
This, of course, caused me to paint a crying nun over the offending area - she is upset Jesus is breaking off the engagement. This leaves weird mutant hand-eared chicken man isolated in the work, as Jesus must be talking about the nun. Maybe not though, Jesus loves everyone, including a 7-finger winged rooster freak, who never did any thing to anyone, minding his own business at the flea market until yanked and hijacked into this acrylic indignity! Oh well! The other ideas I had for the development of the piece are listed on the back of the painting.
BEFORE BREENING
AFTER BREENING
To buy this painting go Here
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Uh Oh! it's Valentines Day! I jump out of bed and run to my studio to slap together a Valentine breen for my poor suffering wife before she wakes up! I poke her awake with a corner of the canvas.
"HERE HONEY!"
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She laughs a little but the painting always mysteriously ends up back in my studio, despite my efforts to put it elsewhere in the house.
She is not fooled by the slap-dash nature of my last minute paint concoction. I barely touched the original painting here, besides, a painting like this doesn't need much because it's technique already virtually flawless! All I did with this one was slap on a few hearts and the words "Be Mine?!" Also, since I was in between front teeth at the time, I gave him an incomplete mouthful.
As every Valentines day rolls around, I always curse myself for not getting a few V-Day breens out there, but this time I'm going to be prepared! Why not give your wife or girl friend (or boyfriend) the gift that says, "I love you! In a breenish way!" This is not any old breen, this is a poorly executed breen given by the artist himself to his very own wife a couple of years ago! Although she hates it, this doesn't mean your significant other will! She could learn to live with it and love you in spite of your obvious failings illustrated by your lack of judgement in spending good money on this painting!
To bid on this painting, go Here.
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