The Art of Woodleaf

Woodleaf holds a press conference to announce he has decided to become an artist, but the only one who shows up is the ever-faithful Girl Reporter.

GR: Dr. Woodleaf, you have called us all here today to unveiled your first work offered for public consumption.

Woodleaf removes the cloth covering the large cardboard poster board with his work.

woodleaf done

W: My eponymous debut to the Art World is called “Bow Down to Woodleaf.”

killed1

My second work is called “He killed her cat.”

GR: Did you really kill your girlfriend’s cat when she left you, after you refused to call 911 when she was dying?

W: I can’t deny it.

Bob Nelson walks into the room interrupting Woodleaf before he can continue.

BN: Woodleaf! It is time for your shameless appropriation to stop! You know, very well, I coined the phrase “Bow Down to Bob” in the 80s on my college radio show way before you ever started using it.

W: (with forced calm over his minor annoyance) Oh, it’s you Bob Nelson. Always raining on someone else’s parade. Why don’t you go bother Dr. Evil? I heard he’s in town. You can’t prove you coined “Bow Down”.

BN: (satirically) Oh, excuse me! I see you really packed the room. What happened to Macy your Agent/Manager/Media Rep?

W: She did not come, because I did not tell her about the event. I did not tell anyone about it or publicized it in any way. Later it shall be reported by the Girl Report that several hundred people turned out. But since you came, I can’t let you leave here alive.

Bob Nelson starts to back away and look nervously around for the nearest exit.

W: I’ve locked all the doors. There will be no leaving.

Heidi Manyhats comes into the room.

many hats

HM: Woodleaf! I have all of these empty oatmeal cardboard canisters which you promised to cut holes in so we could sell hats shaped like the Dreamachine in my Etsy Shop. My apartment was so filled with them that I got evicted and now I’m homeless in San Francisco, and this is all your fault.

W: Wait!

“How are all these people getting into the old high school gymnasium?” Woodleaf thinks to himself.

W: No need to panic. I will address all your questions in time. Heidi, now that I am an artist I will not no longer be able to cut out circles in cardboard. I must preserve my artistic hands.

HM: So, what are you saying? You are washing your hands of the project? It was your idea to begin with.

W: You were not supposed to take it seriously. Can’t you see all my stuff is a joke, except for my artworks which I am showing today. Moving along…

BN: Wait a minute! This pretty lady can stay with me, provided we get out of here alive. Woodleaf, leaving is our only priority at this juncture. May we go?

W: Yes, you can leave at once! I will unlock the door. Just don’t write about this on social media. I wish to continue my Press Conference with GR in peace.

Bob Nelson and Heidi leave

W: (Feeling back in the pink) My next work is called “My Family as Salt Vampires.”
I drew my family in grey tones with large sagging eyes and open mouths.

GR: What is the meaning of this work?

W: My family won’t support me or my art so I put these drawings online to annoy them. If they were to call me to ask me to remove them, I would pretend to be offended, but I would know that they had at least seen them. I have had many careers and vocations, but none of them resulted in monetary gain. That is why I have the donation button on my website. I placed the button near the top in case people just wanted to donate without looking at the artworks. I call it “The Fun Shoppe.” My artworks are not for sale, but people can donate to me so I may continue to produce more artworks in the future. But, if no one donates I will somehow get by on my disability checks. I am a writer without publication. A musician who can’t read music and only plays Wagner, and even that is only based on my admiration of Wagner. A conductor who never conducts. My conductions refers to how I conduct people’s lives. I would be willing to conduct or produce musical compositions, but scores all say “just improvise” on them. Being an artist was the natural extension of my having exhausted other possibilities and growing bored with them. I am interested in using ready made signs to get my point across. Are you writing all of this down?

GR: No, I forgot bring stuff to write with. I will remember it, don’t worry.

W: And this brings me to my next work. It’s a photo of a blank book open to the middle and in the center page I have carelessly scribbled the words “Just write the book yourself.” This serves to open the viewers minds to creativity.

My works are not really about me, they are about the reaction they created in you. Does anyone know anything? Does anything matter at all? These are all questions the audience (of my works) must wrestle with and come to their own answers.

This next drawing was not drawn by me, but my one of my young and impressionable acolytes.

davidwoodard

GR: Did you draw that yourself?

W: No, I did not. Why would you think that?

GR: You tend to credit your major works to someone else. That someone could be chosen at random, or a made up name, or someone who either has or does not have some connection to you.

W: It’s because of my great modesty. I like to push thing out there, and later if I decide they are successful, I will take credit for them, as you know.

GR: So this one is really drawn by you?

W: No, this was drawn by one of my many admirers. He wishes to remain anonymous. We bonded together over our support of North Korea.

GR: I seem to recall he had the North Korea idea and you took it from him. Do you recall your begonia growing phrase in which you wanted to grow a particular begonia grown only in North Korea that looks just like a regular begonia?

W: I don’t remember. I was doing a lot of nitrous oxide and it may have erased the memory. I gave up growing begonias when the tubers developed a fungal rot that liquified them. The liquid sunk into the ground and was then decomposed into the natural environment. Like Charles Manson, I have become an environmentalist. I believe this work was inspired by the letterhead I sent out to ask people to join me at Cabaret Voltaire.

letterhead
Woodleaf’s Letterhead Original

Historical Notes: In 2008, the prisoners at Castle Fluffy Clouds changed the banner that read “Dada Supreme” to one that read “Help Me.” The letterhead was posted online as part of the event promotion. This may have been what attracted David the Alien to visit Castle Fluffy Clouds.

W: You can see my work is much more distinct. One can spot the difference in the pen strokes.

help me

W: In the last artwork, I have taken an image of Kurt Cobain from a tabloid newspaper and paired it with and image of the Satan to explain what happened after the Devil convinced Cobain to commit suicide by telling him to “Just Do It.” “Just Do It” was a popular advertising slogan used by the Nike Company. Nike is also famous for their exploitation of third world workers as pointed by in the comic strip Doonesbury in May 1997.

kurt cobain in hell
Kurt Cobain before and after his suicide induced by use of the Dreamachine or Dream Machine

W: The Devil was modeled after the painting “The Devil Presenting St. Augustine with the Book of Vices” by Michael Pacher. And with this we come to the conclusion of my press conference. At a future time I will be unveiling my newest Sculpture, Stop! Call The Police!

GR: Thank you so much for sharing your art with us.

W: It has been my pleasure!

The story behind the mass exodus at Castle Fluffy Clouds

When David Woodleaf returns to Castle Fluffy Clouds he find only David the Alien and no one else is there.

David Woodleaf: What do you mean you let them all go? You just opened the gates of Castle Fluffy Clouds, and you let all the people out, and now they are gone, and I have no friends?

David Bellfry: Yes, they wanted to go, so I let them all go, and if any remained I kicked them out, because I decided all friends are useless. Friendship is fake. Money is what matters to me. I want a good paying job with benefits. What do you say?

David Woodleaf: In a rage, screaming, “Get out! Get out, of my Castle.”

After the Alien departs in his Uber, perhaps headed back his home world planet, Woodleaf calls Macy.

“He let them all go,” Woodleaf screams into the phone. Screaming on the phone was something Woodleaf did a lot of.

“All of the people I had in my collection due to the success of the Billy Joel Piano Man Concert were released, and now Castle Fluffy Clouds is empty again!”

“Ok,” says Macy, “I’m not deaf, at least not yet. What do think we should do about it?”

“I don’t know,” screams Woodleaf, “I am just so upset right now I can’t even think of what we should do.”

 

 

 

 

 

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