The Museum of Bad Art

Okay, this is probably one of the awesomest ideas I have ever unwittingly stumbled across.  The Museum of Bad Art hosts a collection of some of the all time worst artwork on the planet.  Charming in its overwhelming horribleness, these works have been collected from trash heaps and thrift stores around the Boston area, as well as donations from fans and sometimes the artists themselves.

Only slightly less imaginitive than the artworks themselves is the wry commentary describing each one. If you've got a little time to kill, I highly recommend a visit to the website at http://www.museumofbadart.org/ , or, if you live in Massachusetts, either near the Dedham or the Somerville areas, there are two location to serve you.  As impressed as I am by these artworks online, I can only imagine that being faced with them  in my immediate vicinity would either be overwhelmingly gratifying, or terribly horrifying.

Mama and Babe

"The flesh tones bring to mind the top shelf liqueurs of a border bistro. With an astonishing emphasis on facial bone structure, the artist flirts with caricature and captures features of Mamma's face which remind us of a Presidential candidate. The upright marionettish pose of the babe hints that the early bond between mother and child is as formal as it is familiar. Good old fashioned parental respect is at the center of this celebration of color and contour."

Lucy in the Field With Flowers

"The motion, the chair, the sway of her breast, the subtle hues of the sky, the expression on her face -- every detail combines to create this transcendent and compelling portrait, every detail cries out 'masterpiece.'"

Gilded Nude

"The viewer is struck immediately by the youthful female subject's oversized arm."

A L'INTERIEUR DE L'OEUF (INSIDE THE EGG)

"The French title adds to the mystique of this disturbing example of art brut."

Long Arm of the Law

"Bare-breasted blind Lady Justice is portrayed here in a variation on a traditional subject. Rather than cover her face with a blindfold, the artist depicted her with no eyes. While she is often seen holding the scales of justice, a sword, and/or a book, she is in this painting juggling a ball of dreaded kryptonite in her ample hand at the end of the long arm of the law."

It wasn't until just now, reaching the conclusion of this post, that I noticed the continuing theme of bossoms in outsider art.  This raises the question, are those artists who find themselves fascinated by the Devil's sandbags destined for a life of anonymity? Is their bravery in putting to paper (or canvas) the thoughts which endlessly run through the collective unconscious of mankind rewarded only by an inability to understand the natural proportions of the human form?  Perhaps boobs hold a deeper evil than we are prepared to understand.