Jon Presco
2012-12-23 20:08:58 UTC
The first thing you saw as you descended the stairs to Wanda's Mystery Basement was Jeffrey Harkin's latest work of art. It was hung halfway up the stairway, where you had to duck, thus bow to his creation. The most memorable piece was an electric crazy cat looking you dead in the eye and exposing your raw screeching inner-self that tore away any doubt you were an utter failure in life. There was life after failure. Much life!
The biggest mistake we all made was to not collect Jeffry's art and have a show. My friend was a real schizophrenic who was in and out of mental hospitals most of his life. At an early age he was a scientific wizard. At ten years of age he broke into a PG&E box and got zapped with 50,000 volts. His heart stopped. A doctor neighbor revived him.
When Nancy Hamren, the famous Prankster, visited the Harkins house on Skyline, Jeffrey lured her into his room where there was a chemistry set, and gadgets galore. Here was the future light being that Timothy Leary promised the world. Instead, we got the White Rabbit, Jeffreys handle for his ham radio, he breaking in on all frequencies, he screaming obscenities at those who tried to ignore him, block him out. Specially equipped cars roamed the Oakland Hills trying to get bead on the White Rabbit.
All three of Wanda's sons are sort of artists. One went to CCAC and did a couple of paintings and a few sculptures. James on the other hand went hog-wild he rendering as many as five watercolors a day. Not able to read a ruler, he folded his watercolor paper four times, then cut along that fold. This was Jame's `linoleum Tile' period that ripped every splash artist that ever lived. James would overwhelm the art world with quantity, verses, quality, because he believed if you've seen one Jackson Pollack, you've seen them all.
Everytime anyone entered the front door, James was on them like a big dog, he soon lining up his latest masterpieces on the piano. We would be watching television. We were a captive audience. We gave our critique, and off he stomped, he thundering down the basement stairs, causing us to look at each other and wonder;
"Is he going for his gun? Have we really pissed him off this time!"
In one of the bedroom closets, James stored about four boxes. They were addressed to famous art galleries, MOMA, the Whitney, ect. ect. There must have been a thousand little watercolors all the same size. I suggested to James he find an empty warehouse wall, set up a camera, and film himself pasting his linoleum squares on thee side of it. I was no longer his El Friendo after that. These boxes were only to be opened after Jimbo died because only after death do artists become famous. What a genius to deduce this!
You see, James had read a thousand biogrpaphies about artists. He saw a pattern unfold, being, many artists were not recognized in their lifetime -especially by family members and fellow artists. Quite often, just after death, a family member will toss great masterpieces to be in the ash can, never believing that MOMA would die to get their hands on more of these, they having to make do with one or two survivors overlooked in the `Purge of the Jealous Ones'. James believed he had moved to the front of the line, his artwork already packed and ready to go, while the work of his peers is being mishandled, even given away to Goodwill.
When one entered Wanda's green door, there James would be, sprawled out on the floor like a beached whale, he surrounded by art books, he pouring over them as the T.V. cast a strobe light on The Master. Beside him, in a open box, was his snub-nosed S&W the lid lying next to it. The first thing you wanted to do was close the front door and turn on the heat, but, this was Jame's `Hot Period'. He was always hot, and if you went for the door, you saw his chubby hand go for the box and move it closer to him, because, everyone was an intruder in these hot times.
Perhaps they would return, the wood thieves? The Hoods in the woods?
What the wizard of this Master Plan did not realize, that if he would put his gun away, they would return. Sencing Jimbo is no longer packing a peice, the home invasion would be on. Of course James would not reveal where the real family jewels are stashed, packed and ready to go the moment of his demise!
"Fame awaits me! Take me! I'm all your's!"
James is living in Portland dying a slow death due to home-cooked brownies. What became of his boxes, is not known.
* * *
One time when drunk, I asked Jeffrey to give me the exact dose of spychotrophic drugs he took. He had me hold out my hand as he put about seven pills in my palm.
"Here's looking at you kid!"
The next thing I know I am waking on Wanda's couch having to take a giant pee. But, I can not move a muscle. My bladder about to burst, I discover I can not move my lips as Wanda says good morning, and is off to work. Eight hours later, I hear a key put in the lock, and
"Oh! Are you still here, Greg?"
And, what do you mean by that Mrs. Cleaver of the Altered States?
Two hours later I am able to crawl off the couch, and up the stairs to the bathroom. The White Rabbit had taken me on the longest trip of my life. I musty have peed for half an hour.
Above are cats rendered by artists who suffer from schizophrenia.
Jon Presco
Copyright 2012
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The biggest mistake we all made was to not collect Jeffry's art and have a show. My friend was a real schizophrenic who was in and out of mental hospitals most of his life. At an early age he was a scientific wizard. At ten years of age he broke into a PG&E box and got zapped with 50,000 volts. His heart stopped. A doctor neighbor revived him.
When Nancy Hamren, the famous Prankster, visited the Harkins house on Skyline, Jeffrey lured her into his room where there was a chemistry set, and gadgets galore. Here was the future light being that Timothy Leary promised the world. Instead, we got the White Rabbit, Jeffreys handle for his ham radio, he breaking in on all frequencies, he screaming obscenities at those who tried to ignore him, block him out. Specially equipped cars roamed the Oakland Hills trying to get bead on the White Rabbit.
All three of Wanda's sons are sort of artists. One went to CCAC and did a couple of paintings and a few sculptures. James on the other hand went hog-wild he rendering as many as five watercolors a day. Not able to read a ruler, he folded his watercolor paper four times, then cut along that fold. This was Jame's `linoleum Tile' period that ripped every splash artist that ever lived. James would overwhelm the art world with quantity, verses, quality, because he believed if you've seen one Jackson Pollack, you've seen them all.
Everytime anyone entered the front door, James was on them like a big dog, he soon lining up his latest masterpieces on the piano. We would be watching television. We were a captive audience. We gave our critique, and off he stomped, he thundering down the basement stairs, causing us to look at each other and wonder;
"Is he going for his gun? Have we really pissed him off this time!"
In one of the bedroom closets, James stored about four boxes. They were addressed to famous art galleries, MOMA, the Whitney, ect. ect. There must have been a thousand little watercolors all the same size. I suggested to James he find an empty warehouse wall, set up a camera, and film himself pasting his linoleum squares on thee side of it. I was no longer his El Friendo after that. These boxes were only to be opened after Jimbo died because only after death do artists become famous. What a genius to deduce this!
You see, James had read a thousand biogrpaphies about artists. He saw a pattern unfold, being, many artists were not recognized in their lifetime -especially by family members and fellow artists. Quite often, just after death, a family member will toss great masterpieces to be in the ash can, never believing that MOMA would die to get their hands on more of these, they having to make do with one or two survivors overlooked in the `Purge of the Jealous Ones'. James believed he had moved to the front of the line, his artwork already packed and ready to go, while the work of his peers is being mishandled, even given away to Goodwill.
When one entered Wanda's green door, there James would be, sprawled out on the floor like a beached whale, he surrounded by art books, he pouring over them as the T.V. cast a strobe light on The Master. Beside him, in a open box, was his snub-nosed S&W the lid lying next to it. The first thing you wanted to do was close the front door and turn on the heat, but, this was Jame's `Hot Period'. He was always hot, and if you went for the door, you saw his chubby hand go for the box and move it closer to him, because, everyone was an intruder in these hot times.
Perhaps they would return, the wood thieves? The Hoods in the woods?
What the wizard of this Master Plan did not realize, that if he would put his gun away, they would return. Sencing Jimbo is no longer packing a peice, the home invasion would be on. Of course James would not reveal where the real family jewels are stashed, packed and ready to go the moment of his demise!
"Fame awaits me! Take me! I'm all your's!"
James is living in Portland dying a slow death due to home-cooked brownies. What became of his boxes, is not known.
* * *
One time when drunk, I asked Jeffrey to give me the exact dose of spychotrophic drugs he took. He had me hold out my hand as he put about seven pills in my palm.
"Here's looking at you kid!"
The next thing I know I am waking on Wanda's couch having to take a giant pee. But, I can not move a muscle. My bladder about to burst, I discover I can not move my lips as Wanda says good morning, and is off to work. Eight hours later, I hear a key put in the lock, and
"Oh! Are you still here, Greg?"
And, what do you mean by that Mrs. Cleaver of the Altered States?
Two hours later I am able to crawl off the couch, and up the stairs to the bathroom. The White Rabbit had taken me on the longest trip of my life. I musty have peed for half an hour.
Above are cats rendered by artists who suffer from schizophrenia.
Jon Presco
Copyright 2012
------------------------------------
Yahoo! Groups Links
<*> To visit your group on the web, go to:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Templar-de-Rosemont/
<*> Your email settings:
Individual Email | Traditional
<*> To change settings online go to:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Templar-de-Rosemont/join
(Yahoo! ID required)
<*> To change settings via email:
Templar-de-Rosemont-***@yahoogroups.com
Templar-de-Rosemont-***@yahoogroups.com
<*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
Templar-de-Rosemont-***@yahoogroups.com
<*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to:
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