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| This Web Page designed by Matthew Mroczka - 917-239-7164 - matt@mattsterpiece.com - |
TRAS
X
WHAT is a MATTsterpiece?
At age 12 my art teacher asked that I paint holiday decorations on the windows of our
local drug store. Much to my mother's chagrin, I arrived home with the box of paint.
She threatened my life, should I go anywhere near the living room. It still puzzles me
why she didn't include the kitchen. Since the paint was used on windows, I saw no
reason why I couldn't create an elaborate portrait of Santa Claus right on the fridge
(while Mom was out shopping with her girlfriends of course). When she saw it, her
face twisted as though the fat jolly man were there in the flesh! Had it not been for her
friends' gushing about the beautiful mural, I wouldn't have seen my teenage years. I
reassured Mom that it was water-based paint, and it would wash off, just like it does
on windows.
Fast forward to January 3rd. I arrived home from my first day of school after the
holidays. There was a note on the door:
"MATTHEW, IF YOU KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR YOU, YOU WILL NOT COME
INTO THIS HOUSE.... MOM."
For the life of me, I couldn't recall having done anything wrong, so I opened the door.
There she stood, her cleaning clothes stained with red paint; a ghost of Christmas
past. I looked behind her to the fridge, where Santa had been, and sort-of still was.
The paint seeped beneath the finish of the appliance, assuring that a shadow of
Santa would remain there for many years. And for all those
years, until the fridge sputtered and started to smoke,
guests would ask Mom about the shadow of Jolly Ol' Saint
Nick. And all she could say was:
"That's the remains of a MATTsterpiece."
And THAT is what constitutes a
MATTsterpiece: a work that shocks,
entertains, causes debate, and lingers.
At age 12 my art teacher asked that I paint holiday decorations on the windows of our
local drug store. Much to my mother's chagrin, I arrived home with the box of paint.
She threatened my life, should I go anywhere near the living room. It still puzzles me
why she didn't include the kitchen. Since the paint was used on windows, I saw no
reason why I couldn't create an elaborate portrait of Santa Claus right on the fridge
(while Mom was out shopping with her girlfriends of course). When she saw it, her
face twisted as though the fat jolly man were there in the flesh! Had it not been for her
friends' gushing about the beautiful mural, I wouldn't have seen my teenage years. I
reassured Mom that it was water-based paint, and it would wash off, just like it does
on windows.
Fast forward to January 3rd. I arrived home from my first day of school after the
holidays. There was a note on the door:
"MATTHEW, IF YOU KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR YOU, YOU WILL NOT COME
INTO THIS HOUSE.... MOM."
For the life of me, I couldn't recall having done anything wrong, so I opened the door.
There she stood, her cleaning clothes stained with red paint; a ghost of Christmas
past. I looked behind her to the fridge, where Santa had been, and sort-of still was.
The paint seeped beneath the finish of the appliance, assuring that a shadow of
Santa would remain there for many years. And for all those
years, until the fridge sputtered and started to smoke,
guests would ask Mom about the shadow of Jolly Ol' Saint
Nick. And all she could say was:
"That's the remains of a MATTsterpiece."
And THAT is what constitutes a
MATTsterpiece: a work that shocks,
entertains, causes debate, and lingers.
My Mom: Never quite the same
after the MATTsterpiece
after the MATTsterpiece