Marie Matthews ~ Scenes From The Imperial Opa

It has been my pleasure a number of times to watch artists break through to a whole new level, some more than once. One of the great joys of curating P1xels for three years now.

Marie has been on a tear lately. She’s always been great: imaginative, a master of composition, wonderful apping. This was one of those pictures that instantly declare “Daily Pic.” I didn’t have to think about it tonight at all.

So much going on here, such inventiveness, I don’t even know where to begin. She started with a great picture, but who knows what she did after that? I can’t tell. Layered in the unicycles? Used Percolator at some point. Looks like she added in a bunch of other stuff. What a beautiful color palette ~ the golds and oranges and yelows and purple and taupe and muted greens and khaki. And the layering … I mean, I’m looking at the drop shadows behind the cascading spheres in the upper right, or how his head pops out of the whole hallucination (I’ve seen things like this myself, but no time for another story about blue wedge acid tonight, love) … and thinking it’s little touches like these that define iphonic art, the magical realism of our medium. Every pixel is accounted for, but it’s a beautiful organic flow of shape, color, light and shadow.

This is one of those images that make me feel I do not have a sufficient vocabulary with which to praise it. I’ll tell you this though, there was only one song for this picture. Poetry deserves poetry. Herewith Sunny Goodge Street by Donovan, eternal starry-eyed troubadour.

On the firefly platform on sunny Goodge Street
Violent hash-smoker shook a chocolate machine
Bobbed in an eating scene

Smashing into neon streets in their stillness
Smearing their eyes on the crazy color goddess
Listenin’ to sounds of Mingus mellow fantastic

“My, my,” they sigh
“My, my,” they sigh

In doll house rooms with colored lights swingin’
Strange music boxes sadly tinklin’
Drinkin’ the sun shining all around you

“My, my,” they sigh
“My, my,” they sigh

“My, my,” they sigh
“My, my,” they sigh

The magician, he sparkles in satin and velvet
You gaze at his splendor with eyes you’ve not used yet
I tell you, his name is Love, Love, Love

“My, my,” they sigh
“My, my,” they sigh
“My, my,” sigh


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