My two nieces are about the most brilliant and beautiful two girls you can imagine, full of light, magic and love from the second they were born. But I confess that I never knew how prodigiously talented they were until this past Christmas, when I was gifted some of the finest artwork these two eyes have ever seen.
Understand that one of the first responsibilities I took on as an
was to teach my nieces how to fake throw up. Most people don't realize there's a real art to it. You can't just stick out your tongue, mutter a
couple of halfhearted 'blahs' and expect to be taken seriously. A
good fake heave is a full commitment of body and spirit. I passed on
what I knew to the girls. They channeled it through their pens.
What follows springs part from fancy and part from reality.
This from Seda:
Like Picasso's Guernica, there's a lot for the critic to chew on here. Central to the piece, however, is the self portrait just left of center. As Seda vomits, a cascade of bones, spoons, fish heads and other particulate matter issues forth, corrupting everything and everyone in its path. Spectators look on with a mix of horror and delight. The baby 'Willyum' makes his way with zeal toward what looks to be a tasty puddle. Only Isla appears indifferent to the proceedings, more fascinated by the recycling bin than by what is being recycled from her sister's gullet. No identity has as yet been assigned to the mysterious 'girl' meandering conspicuously through the scene. Though rife with political themes, the major undercurrent is thought to reflect Seda's attitude toward the reelection of President Obama, which, she is documented as having said on election night, 'makes me wanna puke.'
And this by Isla:
Though both depict what appear to be the same jettisoned meals, Isla's masterwork in modern realism stands in stark contrast to her sister's chaotic tableau. Working with an almost obsessive attention to detail, the artist renders the moment with a photographic clarity. Here, a green geyser bursts forth from my grinning visage--bones, spoons, fish heads and other particulate matter purged with a hurricane force. As my sometimes-nauseous wife looks on, the terror in her eyes tells one of the great truths of regurgitation: vomit begets vomit. The sight and smell of this discharge will soon overpower her, and summon forth her own foul payload of bones, spoons, fish heads and other particulate matter.
As an uncle, I couldn't be more proud of my girls. These I will keep and treasure forever, Seda and Isla, until that day comes when I can sell them for mad bank on ebay.