The Painter of Confections

I really see no point in bashing Thomas Kinkade—or talking about him at all, really.  Suffice to say, I don’t understand the attraction, or why anybody would want to “go into where that is and be part of it.”  Being inside a Kinkade painting strikes me as a particularly cruel form of punishment, a department in hell reserved for the most heinous offenders where you’re killed slowly, over and over again, by infusions of soft yellow light and faux-cheerfulness.  Still, this quote, from the story linked to above, struck me as one of those more-revealing-than-it-was-meant-to-be type statements:

Ami Davis, who teaches art at the University of California, Los Angeles, wrote her master’s thesis on Kinkade. “I’ve heard [about] almost quasi-religious experiences with some of these paintings,” Davis says.

How fitting: almost quasi-religious experiences from looking at almost quasi-works of art.  Seems like something that could be worked into a motto for our times.

Also, there’s a kind of satisfying poetic justice in the fact that he’s being sued for fraud, even if it’s in a different sense.  The DUI arrest just gilds the lily.

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