Yes, yes, I did it. I conquered Picasso. Finally, I was able to beat him at his own game, painting. True, he is dead for 34 years now, but I was patient. Well, don't just stand there; go to www.terminartors.com You find under the name of Picasso 260 paintings. Under my name Magyari, John you find 261 paintings. I worked all night to finish this last painting to upload. It was not easy. You see, I met the Grand Master when I was very little. Let me explain. My Mom took me to the movies often. Before the feature film, they showed a world news clip back in Hungary where I grew up. There he was, Picasso painted a dove with a few lines with a palm branch. I want you to stay with me and understand everything I say. Picasso was painting. The dove had the palm branch in her beak, and I was with my Mom in the movies. That's how I met Picasso. No, not personally. I have never met him ever in my whole life personally. The closest I came to be with him that I was in Europe and he was in Europe. " Who is this guy, anyway, " I asked my friends after the film. "Well, He is Picazzo, of course" they told me "He painted the dove for the world peace conference, or something." I became suspicious immediately. This guy might be a better painter than even myself. Naaahhh, that can't be. I will be the greatest painter ever. I will paint like Leonardo da Vinci. What does this guy know anyway. So he painted the dove -- big deal!!! I will paint the Mother of God, Mary.
So, I watched the old guy. Well, he wasn't that old, I was very young.
Then, it happened over and over again. Picasso this, Picasso that; the conferences, his travels. Then the women issues; He married a young girl or just lived with her in sin. He lived with two women at the same time. Now the women fight over him. He is in this style, now he is in another style. He invented yet another style. Now he is in Moscow. Now he is communist. He is back in Paris again. Then the women left him. Now he is lonely, or he married yet another young girl.
"He is not even good looking," I told my great artist friends " He looks like my father." And he did, a little bit. There was always news about him, or let me put it another way -- he was the news. "I don't like this guy anymore" I told my friends one day. "Who, Him! He is a great artist;in fact, he is the greatest artist alive. He rakes in millions. He invented Cubism, Dadaism, Impessimism, Surminimalism, and Rocococo," they explained to me. "I know, I know: it is Impressimism and Surremism; and he never invented Rococo, that was Dali" we argued because we knew everything about art that one can know. "He has seven 'mismos' to his name, and that's a fact" the oldest guy told us. So, we left at that. Years later my sister gave me a book, it must have been a discard from the library; we couldn't afford fancy books.
"Well, open it" she waited, "You like books about art."
"Huuuh, it's a Picasso" I raled. Once again, I have to clear up any misunderstanding. It was not a 'Picasso' painting, the book was about Picasso. I don't want the local criminals ransack my house because of a sad misunderstanding. Back to the story.
So, I pretended to look at the book sometimes, and at other times, I did not pretend at all. Let's see the integrity of the composition, or how about the color schemata, or what about the anatomical proportions. We used big words back then. Of course he just never measured up to the 'Madonna of the Rocks' or to 'The Prisoner' by Munkacsy. Nonetheless, I spent more time to look at the paintings, sculptures, collages and masks in the book. But of course 'I never liked the guy.' Then I grew up, changed continents, and I had to work for my living. Art was put to the back burner. When I travelled in many countries of the world,I made sure to be in touch with the art world. That's when I met him again in New York City, Picasso, standing in a large plaza. Well, not Picasso the sculptor, but one of his sculpture. He was standing there, no it was standing there; a large steel structure. I recognized the genre immediately. I knew it was him. Alas, I never walked closer. I just nod coldly to the sculpture like I would nod to the sculptor, and I walked away. That was then. Now that I conquered him, I am no longer mad at the guy. Why should I be ? How can I be? He never offended me in any way. He never even knew about my existence. I realize, it is an uneven fight between Picasso and I. He passed away a long time ago. He can not defend himself, yet I kept attacking him, in my mind anyway. When I came to the conclusion that I can not beat him at the auction houses, I figured to look for weak spots in the system. That is when I discovered this innocent website www.terminartors.com Picasso was defenceless with 260 works. When I uploaded 261 paintings, I just waited and waited. Nobody made a move. So, I keep quiet because if someone discovers my scheme they just upload more from his 70,000 works , and I am doomed. So far, I am holding my own. That's how I conquered Picasso. My only defence in this story is that women never fought over me. Most of them left me because of the paint smell, or so they claim.
Posted by John Magyari at 07:22 0 Comments
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