HOW MANY BIG MACS

This week's sales at Sotheby's art auction house in New York City blew the cover off the one percenters, if they ever had one. Here's a silly illustration of the insanity.

Andy Warhol's Triple Elvis sold for $81.9 million, or 14,393,673 Big Mac Meals (from here on referred to as BMM).

Untitled (I wonder why) 1970 by Cy Twombly sold for $69.6 million, or 11,677,582 BMM.

Another untitled, by Mark Kippenberger, 1988, sold for $22.6 million, or 3,971,880 BMM.

Balloon Monkey (Orange) by Jeff Koons sold for $25.9 million or 4,551,845 BMM. It also comes in other colors.

Untitled XXIV (not good at making up titles?) by Willem de Kooning, sold for $17.5 million, or 3,075,571 BMM.

Reflections on the Prom, 1990, by Roy Lichtenstein sold for $21.4 million, or 3,760,984 BMM.

Last year this Triptych by Francis Bacon sold for a record $142.4 million, or 25,026,362 BMM. Well after all, they did get three paintings for the price of one.

Ronald, you may have chosen the wrong business!

WHY THE RED POPPY

I love humanity. I hate humanity. The wonders of our accomplishments. The horror of our accomplishments.

Like some other species, we gather together in groups, then set out to destroy other such groups. Our very large, lovely brains do not stop us from doing this time and time again.

Even with feelings of such sadness for this propensity of ours, I am in awe of the sacrifices millions and millions of individuals have made.

As the 100 year anniversary of World War I in Europe is here, an amazing memorial has taken shape, temporarily, in London. Ceramic artist Paul Cummins and stage designer Tom Piper have created a memorial so stunning that it has attracted 4 million visitors in its three month existence.

It has the unsentimental name of "Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red". It is composed of 888,246 ceramic red poppies, the estimated number of Commonwealth souls who lost their lives fighting in World War I. It fills the moat area of the infamous Tower of London.

Much like the Vietnam War Memorial built in 1982, designed my Maya Ying Lin, in Washington D.C., this current memorial has garnered much more appreciation by the public than was ever anticipated.

No longer a number in a history book, viewers are struck by the reality of this human loss.

But why the red poppy? We have all seen it passed around by members of the VFW on Veterans day, but I figure most of us don't wonder how that came about.

In 1915, after attending the funeral of a fallen soldier friend, Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae wrote this poem, In Flanders Field.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields. 

By 1921 the red poppy had become the official symbol of remembrance of those who died in World War I. 

Small in stature, my Grandpa Howard made it home from the war in France, with a Purple Heart, passing away years later from the lingering injuries.

We will never forget their sacrifices.

NOW PANIC & FREAK OUT

The thing they seem to be failing to factor into the discussions about the virus which is currently terrifying our country, is human behavior.

Most of us live in a current of humanity that is somewhere between this

and this.

We have been connecting to each other since the beginning.

from Creation of Adam by Michelangelo Buonarroti Simoni
 

We gathered together early on in order to survive.

Our destinies intertwined and flowed like water.

Faith Like Flowing Water by Harriet Zabusky-Zand of Cape Cod

We reached out across the planet, to the enrichment of some and the detriment of others.

We gathered together to hear stories about humanity enacted before us.

Queen Elizabeth at the Globe, by David Scott, 1840

In celebrations of the amazing and the absurd, we sat together in awe.

The Circus, by George Seurat

No one could stop our advancement across the lands.

Watching the Wagon Train, by Oscar Edmund Berninghaus

When mechanization came, we gladly bunched our selves together for transport.

The Train Journey, by Tirzah Garwood, 1929-1930

Bus Riders, by George Segal, 1962

Modern coliseums were built so that we all could witness great games,

Earle Combes, by Paul Lempa of New Jersey

and grand parks were built so that we could experience fun just for its own sake.

Bumper Cars Amusement Park, by Heidi Malott of Indiana

What a comforting feeling to join others for a meal.

Diner, by Ralph Goings of California

The common joy of watching a parade.

PDQ, by Susan MacMillan of California

Sometimes we wait and wait and wait together.

Waiting on a Plane, by Jessica Cook of Texas

Sometimes we roll together,

Coming and Going, by Wayne Thiebaud of California

or not.

Taxi a New York, by Guido Borelli of Italy

We amble and mill about in our towns and cities

Restaurant Amir International Cafe, by Carole Spandau of Montreal

for purpose, pleasure, or addiction.

Starbucks Still Life, by Robert Joyner of Virginia

So, as mentioned at the beginning, our innate human behavior is a part of the mix in this viral drama happening right now. We cannot and should not stop these tendencies. Just be careful, not fearful. 
We can't let the media talking heads scare us away from each other.

Girl Watching TV, by Tracy, 1988

THE ADVENTURE GENE

These are my parents. My mother scaling a cliff using a rope tied to our VW. My father on one of his solo backpacking trips in the Southern California mountains. 

These two didn't grow up on ranches or farms. They came of age in the Southern California suburbs. There must be an adventure gene.

Back in the 1950's they would drive the family out to the Southern California deserts to camp. Can you imagine sleeping beneath these boulders? Notice the green tent back in the boulders, as well as the two little girls. 

And there was that little family drive over the Rockies. It really was summer.

How about camping along a remote coastal sand dune in Baja Mexico, arrived at by many, many miles of bad unpaved roads, and with the only translating being done by a teenage daughter equipped with high school Spanish speaking skills.

My one true wilderness adventure: backpacking for a week in the Sierra outback with my dad when I was 18. No roads, no phones. He proved to be a very capable guide. 

After we kids were grown, my parents, who were in their 70's at the time, leased a lovely sailboat and cruised the Virgin Islands for two weeks, all by themselves. I worried the whole time that they would be accosted by pirate types, but they returned and said it was like heaven.

I salute the adventurers of the world. I am for the most part not one of them, except when I was in tow by my parents. In hind site it was a valuable gift that they gave us three kids.
Of course the arts like to honor adventurers, especially in film, but painters too try to capture the beauty and dynamics of world adventures.

Illustration of Sir Francis Drake's exploration of the Pacific coast, 1579

Mountain climber depicted by Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840) of Germany

Ascent of the Lower Sinai Range by David Roberts (1796-1864) of Scotland

Shooting the Rapids by Robert Hughes Perrizo of Minnesota

Arctic scene (painting) by Cory Trepanier of Canada

Canyon Hikers by Judy Rider of North Carolina

Divers by Allison Moore

Flooded Forest, Rio Negro, Amazon, by Michael Rothman of Connecticut

The Lewis & Clark expedition, by Gary R. Lucy of Missouri

Road Trip to Taos, by Elizabeth Jose of New Mexico

Climbers on Third Cathedral by Michael E. Vermette of Maine

Kayaks, Morro Bay, by Cynthia Meyer of Central California

to all the sky lovers

to all the ground lovers         by Winslow Homer, 1869

to all the water lovers          by Nina Squire of the U.K.

Cheers to the spirit of exploring our fascinating planet.