I am for an Art

"I AM FOR AN ART..." BY CLAES OLDENBURG

"I am for an art that is political-erotical-mystical, that does something
other than sit on its ass in a museum.
I am for an art that grows up not knowing it is art at all, an art given
the chance of having a staring point of zero.
I am for an art that embroils itself with the everyday crap & still comes
out on top.
I am for an art that imitates the human, that is comic, if necessary...
I am for an art that takes its form from the lines of life itself, that twists
and extends and accumulates and spits and drips, and is heavy and coarse
and blunt and sweet and stupid as life itself.

I am for an artist who vanishes, turning up in a white cap painting
signs or hallways.

I am for art that comes out of a chimney like black hair and scatters in
the sky.
I am for art that spills out of an old man's purse when he is bounced
off a passing fender.
I am for the art out of a doggy's mouth, falling five stories from the
roof.
I am for the art that a kid licks, after peeling away the wrapper.
I am for an art that joggles like everyones knees, when the bus
traverses an excavation.
I am for art that is smoked, like a cigarette, smells, like a pair of shoes.
I am for art that flaps like a flag or helps blow noses, like a hand-
kerchief.
I am for art that is put on and taken off, like pants, which develops
holes, like socks, which is eaten, like a piece of pie, or abandoned with great
contempt, like a piece of shit.

I am for art covered with bandages. I am for art that limps and rolls
and runs and jumps. I am for art comes in a can or washes up on the shore.
I am for art that coils and grunts like a wrestler. I am for art that sheds
hair.
I am for art you can sit on. I am for art you can pick your nose with or
stub your toes on.
I am for art from a pocket, from deep channels of the ear, from the
edge of a knife, from the corners of the mouth, stuck in the eye or worn on
the wrist.
I am for art under the skirts, and the art of pinching cockroaches.

I am for the art of conversation between the sidewalk and a blind mans
metal stick.
I am for the art that grows in a pot...

... that comes down out of the skies at
night, like lightning, that hides in the clouds and growls. I am for art that is
flipped on and off with a switch.
I am for art that unfolds like a map, that you can squeeze, like your
sweetys arm, or kiss, like a pet dog. Which expands and squeaks, like an
accordion, which you can spill your dinner on, like an old tablecloth.
I am for an art that you can hammer with, stitch with, sew with, paste
with, file with.
I am for an art that tells you the time of day, or where such and such a
street is.
I am for an art that helps old ladies across the street.

I am for the art of the washing machine. I am for the art of a govern-
ment check. I am for the art of last wars raincoat.
I am for the art that comes up in fogs from sewer-holes in winter. I am
for the art that splits when you step on a frozen puddle. I am for the worms
art inside the apple. I am for the art of sweat that develops between crossed
legs.

I am for the art of neck-hair and caked tea-cups, for the art between the
tines of restaurant forks, for the odor of boiling dishwater.
I am for the art of sailing on Sunday, and the art of red and white
gasoline pumps.
I am for the art of bright blue factory columns and blinking biscuit
signs.
I am for the art of cheap plaster and enamel. I am for the art of worn
marble and smashed slate. I am for the art of rolling cobblestones and
sliding sand. I am for the art of slag and black coal. I am for the art of dead
birds.
I am for the art of scratchings in the asphalt, daubing at the walls. I am
for the art of bending and kicking metal and breaking glass, and pulling at
things to make them fall down.
I am for the art of punching and skinned knees and sat-on bananas. I
am for the art of kids' smells. I am for the art of mama-babble.
I am for the art of bar-babble, tooth-picking, beerdrinking, egg-salting,
in-sulting. I am for the art of falling off a barstool.

I am for the art of underwear and the art of taxicabs. I am for the art of
ice-cream cones dropped on concrete. I am for the majestic art of dog-turds,
rising like cathedrals.

I am for the blinking arts, lighting up the night. I am for art falling,
splashing, wiggling, jumping, going on and off.
I am for the art of fat truck-tires and black eyes.
I am for Kool-art, 7-UP art, Pepsi-art, Sunshine art, 39 cents art, 15
cents art, Vatronol Art, Dro-bomb art, Vam art, Menthol art, L & M art, Ex-
lax art, Venida art, Heaven Hill art, Pamryl art, San-o-med art, Rx art, 9.99
art, Now art, New art, How art, Fire sale art, Last Chance art, Only art,
Diamond art, Tomorrow art, Franks art, Ducks art, Meat-o-rama art.

I am for the art of bread wet by rain. I am for the rats' dance between
floors. I am for the art of flies walking on a slick pear in the electric light. I
am for the art of soggy onions and firm green shoots. I am for the art of
clicking among the nuts when the roaches come and go. I am for the brown
sad art of rotting apples.
I am for the art of meowls and clatter of cats and for the art of their
dumb electric eyes.
I am for the white art of refrigerators and their muscular openings and
closing.
I am for the art of rust and mold. I am for the art of hearts, funeral
hearts or sweetheart hearts, full of nougat. I am for the art of worn meat-
hooks and singing barrels of red, white, blue and yellow meat.
I am for the art of things lost or thrown away, coming home from
school. I am for the art of cock-and-ball trees and flying cows and the noise
of rectangles and squares. I am for the art of crayons and weak grey pencil-
lead, and grainy wash and sticky oil paint, and the art of windshield wipers
and the art of the finger on a cold window, on dusty steel or in the bubbles
on the sides of a bathtub.
I am for the art of teddy-bears and guns and decapitated rabbits, ex-
ploded umbrellas, raped beds, chairs with their brown bones broken, burn-
ing trees, firecracker ends, chicken bones, pigeon bones, and boxes with men
sleeping in them.

I am for the art of slightly rotten funeral flowers, hung bloody rabbits
and wrinkly yellow chickens, bass drums & tambourines, and plastic phono-
graphs.
I am for the art of abandoned boxes, tied like pharaohs. I am for an art
of watertanks and speeding clouds and flapping shades.
I am for U.S. Government Inspected Art, Grade A art, Regular Price
art, Yellow Ripe art, Extra Fancy art, Ready-to-eat art, Best-for-less art,
Ready-to-cook art, Fully cleaned art, Spend Less art, Eat Better art, Ham art,
pork art, chicken art, tomato art, banana art, apple art, turkey art, cake art,
cookie art.