Menkaure and Queen Kamerernebty
Old Kingdom, Ancient Egypt
4th Dynasty
2548-2530 BCE

This week’s Art Focus Friday features another sculpture, this time from ancient Egypt, and several millenia older than Augustus of Primaporta.

Menkaure was pharoah during the 4th dynasty of Egypt’s Old Kingdom, son of Khafre (who was the son of Khufu). Menkaure’s pyramid is one of the three most famous, part of the triad of the biggest pyramids at Giza.

He commissioned many statues, as all pharaohs and upper classmen did. This particular sculpture is carved in the standardized Egyptian Canon of Proportions style, with almost rigid bodily structure, parted legs, forward-looking body, and hands clenched at the sides. The figures of Menkaure and his wife, Queen Kamerernebty II are idealized, stylzed, and beautiful–both with peaceful, almost curious smiles and youthful faces.

The remarkable thing a bout this sculpture is its subtle detail. Look closely at Kamerernebty’s hairline and you will see that she is wearing a beeswax, perfumed wig over her natural hair. There is also great detail paid to bodily curves and sensual shapes. Unlike most Old Kingdom statuary, Queen Kamerernebty holds her husband affectionately–a gesture not commonly seen in Egyptian art and sculpture until the Amarna period, centuries later. She gently holds him around the waist and touches his arm.

Though they are both very regal and formal in shape, this gentle connection between husband and wife is intriguing and comforting.

Since sculpture can often seem so distant, cold, monumental–I admire this piece for its ability to become soft and personal.

A large body of poetry has been found in Egypt which allow a little more of that intimacy to come through. When I see this figure, I am reminded that it was meant to mark a lifetime, meant for posterity and spiritual presence–and to transmit information to viewers.

I am also reminded of an excerpt from this poem (also from ancient Egypt):

Love, how I’d love to slip down to the pond
bathe with you close by on the bank.Just for you I’d wear my new Memphis swimsuit,
made of sheer linen, fit for a queen–
come see how it looks in the water.

Couldn’t I coax you to wade with me?
Let the cool creep slowly around us?
Then I’d dive deep down
and come up for you, dripping,
let you fill your eyes
with the little red fish that I’d catch.

…..

(translated from the hieroglyphs by John Foster).

Chalk Henge, originally uploaded by plasticpumpkin.

I love doing skteches from still life. Though it may be an old-hand technique, done a million times, it still offers interesting possibilities (and great practice). Nothing beats trying to capture what’s right in front of you.

]]> http://plasticpumpkin.wordpress.com/2009/12/17/chalk-henge/feed/ 2 plasticpumpkin http://plasticpumpkin.wordpress.com/2009/12/13/daily-musings-121309-learning/ http://plasticpumpkin.wordpress.com/2009/12/13/daily-musings-121309-learning/#comments Mon, 14 Dec 2009 06:50:04 +0000 plasticpumpkin http://plasticpumpkin.wordpress.com/?p=925 ]]>

“Learn as if you were not reaching your goal, and as if you were afraid of missing it,” –the Analects of Confucious.

As I wrap up this semester, both as teacher and student, I am pausing. Stepping back. Clearing my mind. Re-centering myself.

The precious path of discovery is wide open.

I am voracious. A consumer of knowledge, a lover of information–but I will not forget that learning isn’t everything. Some things can’t be learned, only experienced (though experience is a form of learning in the end, anyway). Give me more to gobble and absorb, and I’m ready for it.

During this return to school, I have revisited things I thought I had mastered and traveled to new places. I’ve uncovered new things, new techniques, new things about myself. I have enjoyed seeing fellow students have epiphanies with projects–ideas for paint, brush, and word. Eagerly whipping out new creations, in a shared environment. Nothing beats collaboration and interaction with wild, open minds.

From the other side of the podium, I’ve watched as people who stifled creativity through most of their adult lives, in favor of “responsibility,” found their creative inner children again, splashing paint, tracing shapes, and expressing landscapes in weird colors–pink mountains and purple clouds. Fearlessly. I hope they all continue playing with art and reconnecting with that expression they thought they had lost. I encouraged them to DO and TRY, not to be afraid of wanting to express themselves. Make some “me” time, and do it.

Fine Art Building, Cell Phone Cam

I’m also the kind of person who can look through a college catalog and say, “I’ll take that, and that, and that…” so I have to reign it back. LOL. Focus. But the joy of learning is still there, hanging out. If I win the lottery, you can guess what I’ll do with a chunk of it. A collection of degrees.

Self Portrait Reflected in Gallery Photo, Cell Phone Cam

As I prepare for next semester, I have cut back a bit on the classes I am teaching, in order to focus on learning. I am still hosting three art classes, but will renew the rest of the courses in summer. This is a good thing. It’s about opening the mind, filling the belly, and digging in.

I am re-thinking my entire art focus. Before now, I was more concerned with producing “product” to sell at art shows and in galleries. I grew up in that world. Both of my parents traveled all over California, selling art, hitting shows and events, producing work, and cutting their bottom line. As a kid, I would be in the back of the booth, playing with newfound friends, children of other art show folks. As I got older, I helped them sell, helped them do the show circuit, and went into it as an adult–but now, I’m shifting gears in a healthy way. I am so excited to share it all, I can’t even gush it all here.

Art for the sake of art, the way poetry for the sake of poetry works, is key. It has to be that which must come out, that which is tearing up the inside of your soul and has to be painted, sprayed, printed, or otherwise spewed. Arts & crafts shows? We’ll see. Keep an eye out for my updated artist statement (still working on it). Product vs. Passion. Passion wins out.

Which Direction? Cell Phone Cam

So, I’m excited about learning, teaching, and I feel like I’m on the verge of something big–a new direction, a new focus. Everything I’ve learned before has just been leading up to this point.

Sitting down. Clearing out. Learning the way. Easy as that.

Man in a Boat, by Ren Adams (me!)

In previous Poetry Saturday features, I’ve showed you a batch of beloved free-verse poets; Modernists, post-Modernists, and rule-breaking wordsmiths who defied traditional rhyming structure. This weekend, I am sharing a favorite poem of Robert Lowell’s, who was also a “radical” poet in his own right, even if the structure of his poetry might remind you of older forms. His gritty, hard-edged, often bloody phrases are raw, unafraid, and quite “unflowery,” even when he builds upon rhyme.

A native of Boston, Massachusetts, Robert Lowell (1917 – 1977) came from a long line of educated East Coasters (yes, he is connected to the Lowells for whom Lowell, MA is named), and was deeply tied to coastal culture. Highly educated, well aware of fellow poets (both past and present), and something of a political activist, Lowell was involved in affairs ranging from social change to the renewal of old world values. He listened closely to Ezra Pound’s credo that poetry should be fresh and visual–but that is should also be about history; that it should speak from our experiences, and be about something greater than ordinary.

“The Quaker Graveyard at Nantucket” is a gripping, moving work that focuses on the many sailors lost along the Eastern Coast. You might notice nods to the “Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” or “Moby Dick,” and you will definitely feel the sense of history in the “ancientness” of certain words and passages, as well as the horror and mystery of death at sea, the ever-moving cycle of life, and a reminder to remember both the terrible and the “sacred.” His lyrical, old world qualities were in dramatic contrast to the courtliness of Robert Frost (a contemporary) as well as Ezra Pound, and TS Eliot (also contemporaries).

It comes from his second book of poetry, Lord Weary’s Castle, published in 1947, a year before TS Eliot received the Nobel Prize for Poetry.

(the following are specially chosen EXCERPTS from the entire poem)

(For Warren Winslow, Dead At Sea)
Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and
the fowls of the air and the beasts and the whole earth,
and every creeping creature that moveth upon the earth.

I
A brackish reach of shoal off Madaket–
The sea was still breaking violently and night
Had steamed into our North Atlantic Fleet,
When the drowned sailor clutched the drag-net. Light
Flashed from his matted head and marble feet,
He grappled at the net
With the coiled, hurdling muscles of his thighs:
The corpse was bloodless, a botch of reds and whites,
Its open, staring eyes
Were lustreless dead-lights
Or cabin-windows on a stranded hulk
Heavy with sand. We weight the body, close
Its eyes and heave it seaward whence it came,
Where the heel-headed dogfish barks it nose
On Ahab’s void and forehead; and the name
Is blocked in yellow chalk.
Sailors, who pitch this portent at the sea
Where dreadnaughts shall confess
Its heel-bent deity,
When you are powerless
To sand-bag this Atlantic bulwark, faced
By the earth-shaker, green, unwearied, chaste
In his steel scales: ask for no Orphean lute
To pluck life back. The guns of the steeled fleet
Recoil and then repeat
The hoarse salute.

II

Whenever winds are moving and their breath
Heaves at the roped-in bulwarks of this pier,
The terns and sea-gulls tremble at your death
In these home waters. Sailor, can you hear
The Pequod’s sea wings, beating landward, fall
Headlong and break on our Atlantic wall
Off ‘Sconset, where the yawing S-boats splash
The bellbuoy, with ballooning spinnakers,
As the entangled, screeching mainsheet clears
The blocks: off Madaket, where lubbers lash
The heavy surf and throw their long lead squids
For blue-fish? Sea-gulls blink their heavy lids
Seaward. The winds’ wings beat upon the stones,
Cousin, and scream for you and the claws rush
At the sea’s throat and wring it in the slush
Of this old Quaker graveyard where the bones
Cry out in the long night for the hurt beast
Bobbing by Ahab’s whaleboats in the East.

A fascinating article on Lowell:

http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200307/davison

To read the entire poem:

http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/robert-lowell/13672

Testing… 1,2,3….

I didn’t think this widget had actually even posted. Imagine my surprise this morning when I saw it here! LOL. I was trying to post it for ONE song, but it doesn’t seem to work that way. So, hell. I’ll leave it up if someone’s in the mood for symphonic music.

Augustus of Primaporta
Sculpture
Imperial Rome, 1st c. AD

Art Focus Friday – Augustus of Primaporta and the Power of Art in Daily Life

One common, uninformed argument against art is that it doesn’t “do” anything. It just sits there, looking pretty (or confusing). It doesn’t run businesses, perform surgery, find the cure for cancer, or babysit children. It isn’t a law degree, a hot meal, transportation, or electricity. It just sits there, decoratively, seemingly without impact on society or daily life.

This is far from the truth.

Critics who lob the “art is useless” argument at artists and teachers often level the claim that art is not useful for anything obvious or practical, and is therefore a waste of time. Though they acknowledge some may admire it for its age, beauty, or historical context, many still believe art is just “that which should hang on the wall, matching the sofa.”

For the sake of this “Art Focus Friday,” I won’t go into the reams of data on art as anthropological, historical, and archaeological record—or the importance of it as a mirror of social activity, a voice of change, or even the propellant to revolution (i.e., muralism). Instead, as with all future “focus” features, I am focusing on one powerful, intriguing piece as an example: Augustus of Primaporta.

We are surrounded by art every day. Even something as common as symbols on street signs or public restroom doors is pictorial; a form of visual imagery and art. In addition to helping us perform daily tasks true art goes beyond the basal “decor” item. It has impact on things around it. Reflects social change. Inspires new ideas, or cements old ones. It actively participates.

Consider magazines at the supermarket checkout counter. Moody, dark images of celebrities may taint public opinion of their deeds even before they’ve gone to trial. Poppy celebrity posters helped propel the Obama campaign—everything from “change” posters to highly visible stickers, with carefully designed elements.

Like political posters from the 20^th and 21^st centuries, Augustus of Primaporta is a piece of artwork which is at once beautiful, and socially impactful. He is one of my favorite pieces, for sure.

Augustus is exquisitely carved, beautifully rendered, and politically charged. At first glance, he is a well-carved sculpture; a man with a realistic heft to the fleshiness of his arms and legs. A man who seems about to step forward, to breathe, to move, as his weight shifts from one leg to the next and he raises his arm. But there is far more to him than a slightly stylized realism, carved in stone. Every part of this statue is symbolic of something larger–and not simply “just because.” This figure was Augustus’ campaign “poster,” which expressed many things about his personality, intent, campaign, and political goals. It is considered to have been one of the most important factors, if not the factor, which led to his ability to more peacefully unite all of Rome under his rule.

Without boring you too much with ancient Roman history, I’ll give you a thin outline. Republican Rome was about as democratic as one could get, even with its inherent problems. Though still largely ruled by elitist votes, the plebians (or the working classes; masses) still had a voice, and many were able to participate in governmental decisions, casting votes and making changes. In the late years of the Republic, continued war, landlessness, and poverty undermined the basic outline of their inclusive government. Two failed land reformers (Tiberius and Gaius Gracchus) were killed by greedy senators, inviting an end to the Republic.

With the Republic weakened, the everyday masses began to lose ground, safety, value, hope. Powerful generals like Sulla and Julius Caesar were able to walk in and seize power, often claiming they were restoring the Republic. Instead, they had ushered in an age known as “Imperial Rome,” where emperors, or imperators, ruled, instead of true voting groups.

Augustus (born Gaius Octavius Thurinus), swept in and picked up the pieces after the mess and conflicts between Julius Caesar, Marcus Antonius, and Cleopatra (and the first triumvirate). He restored the outward façade of the Roman Republic, but held all of the major offices that had once been held by elected officials (kinda like being President, Vice President, Secretary of State, Chief Justice, and everything else, all rolled into one). After years of chaos, with Augustus in power, things calmed down and were known as the “peace of Augustus,” a time of prosperity, peace, and growth. If you’ve ever heard “having an Augustuan Age,” you now know where it came from. But, in order to get to the peace of Augustus, Augustus himself had to prove he was worthy–and was actually going to do a good job.

Augustus had detractors. Many were afraid that with him stepping in to fill all of the spots, it would become a dictatorship (or even despotism). That he would become a tyrant, like other before him, was a very real concern. Because he knew it was easier to lead willing supporters, Augustus wanted to make sure everyone knew his intents, goals, and the fabric of his character (or at least a desirable image of such). He commissioned Augustus of Primaporta (actually taken from an original bronze; it’s believed several of these marble carvings were created off of a bronze blueprint, to be distributed) to show the people his polticial base. The statue outlines the fears of the people, his answers to them, and his intent as imperator (emperor).

So, the statute had a big job. Calm everyone down after years of strife, and prove to them that Augustus was the rightful leader, thus avoiding civil war.

For starters, he wears a military breastplate—which in itself is a picture within a picture. Scenes of Augustus pacifying rebels (as well as images of divinity) are emblazoned on the breastplate, showing the viewer that he was able to calm uprisings and concerns through diplomacy, not war. One look tells you that he means business, is ready for battle, but prefers to solve problems diplomatically when he can. He is also powerful, defensive, and prepared He purposefully does not wear a helmet, or complete armor, because that would have sent the wrong signal—that of a trigger-happy military man.

He also carries, draped casually, part of a citizen’s robe, which he appears to be wearing underneath the armor, or wrapped around himself. This reminds the viewer that he is of the people. He is a citizen, in a toga, who can pause to hold the drapery, without swinging a weapon. It also hints at his duties as a magistrate and with adjudication.

He has bare feet, echoing traditional Roman religious statuary, which always showed gods and goddesses barefoot—but which also shows that Augustus treads on holy ground (all of Rome), and that he is humble and barefoot before all.

His arm is raised in what Romans would have recognized immediately as a sign of “I am speaking.” He talks to the people, raises his arm to share ideas, presumably listens. He is devoid of a weapon (although there is some speculation that his left hand should be holding a rod, spear, or possibly an imperial scepter or scroll).

Even his hair is symbolic. He wears two hair cuts in one—one for each faction in Rome, so as to be on both sides at once.

There are even more levels to the symbolism, but you get the idea. This figurine, placed in the Roman forum, and at other key locations, showed the people who were concerned about Augustus’ intent that he was humble, willing to listen, placid yet prepared, brave and strong, yet willing to talk and listen. It calmed fears and allowed people to gather under him in support. His entire publicity campaign was wrapped up in the exquisite lines of a carved piece of artwork.

Art with social impact? Absolutely.

Photo #1:

http://www.kmkz.com/jonesj/index.php?id=gallery&course=ID11&category=Rome

Photo # 2:
http://www.titalus.com/art/Hum111/Rome/Rome.htm

The Vatican Museum’s beautiful page:

http://mv.vatican.va/2_IT/pages/z-Patrons/MV_Patrons_04_03.html

Further reading:

http://web.mit.edu/21h.402/www/primaporta/interpretations/

Self-Portrait

(This painting is done in acrylic, at about 24″ x 30″ size.

If you stand back from your monitor, or squint, you should see the pixelated squares come into focus).

We are who we are. For better or for worse.

When we’re aware of ourselves, we can improve the things that are out of balance. Those little things we all know we need to work on, or maybe just the things we feel we could develop. When we ignore ourselves, and don’t listen to our inner voice, we get out of whack, lost in all kinds of distractions. We get mired in the things that don’t matter, like gossip, self-pity, jealousy, hatred, confusion.

Someone once told me all artists have to do a portrait of themselves in their lifetime. I always wondered why. In fact, I rejected the idea at first, maybe out of a basic desire to instantly reject the kinds of things other people declare all people must do in their lifetimes. Y’know. Like the white picket fence and 2.5 kids thing.

I have never wanted to do a self portrait. In a high school art class, I remember dodging the project by doing a reflective self portrait–concepts, colors, and things which represented me at the time. Cheesy, but an easy way to avoid doing my own face.

It’s not that I dislike drawing people. People are actually one of my favorite subjects. I’ve done portraiture for years and enjoy drawing, painting, or rendering people who intrigue me. There are still so many more portraits I want to do that I have a list of names that I’ll tackle as I go. But–I have just never wanted to paint myself. Why would I? What the hell would I do with it? Who would buy a painting of me? Would I want it in my living room? What for? And wait–am I thinking too much about all of it, as usual? I could hang it in the back of my closet and keep the closet stuffed to the point where I wouldn’t see it. There’s an idea.

Some people really get off on the way they look–their favorite person is themselves. I’ve known two people who actually have tattoos of themselves ON themselves. Serious portraits. Glam shots in skin ink. I suppose it does “take all kinds” to make the world complete, but there’s just something about the idea of a serious tattoo of oneself, on oneself, that makes me quesy. Or, maybe I’m just thinking, again, that if I had a self-portrait tattoo of myself, on myself, my stomach would seriously be turning and tossing its lunch.

So, I’ve been forced (for a project) to do a set of two self-portraits.

One in a very structured way (a large-scale grid. Think of those posters of Homer Simpson, where he’s made up of many small images of Homer Simpson; Chuck Close-inspired), and another in free style. My gut turned, of course. But, I HAD to do them. In fact, we had to use photos (no sneaky tricks this time) of our head, face, shoulders. My first reaction was the old one:  Why the hell would I want to paint myself? I’m the least interesting subject I know. But then, I backed up. Why be so judgmental? The project had to get done, and I tried expanding my horizon. Just going with it. Hitting the flow to see what would come out.

It was more challenging than other portraits I’ve done. When (those of us who don’t get tattoos of ourselves, on ourselves) do self portraits, or even when we take photos of ourselves, so many of us are so selective and judgmental of our own looks, we forget to simply enjoy being.

A self-portrait forces you to look inward, at a reflection, at an inner glow. After staring at your own photo for hours, painting, you begin to lose the critique. You begin to soften. The face turns into shapes, hues, tonal qualities. You stop worrying about how good or bad you look and you just break things down and work.

So, I’m sharing the structured, pixel-by-pixel style painting with you here. Stand back, and it comes into focus. Squint and it comes into focus. It’s weird.

And, here is one of my favorite songs–Wir sind Wir (We are We), by Peter Heppner and Paul Van Dyk. Well, we are who we are, after all!

http://new.music.yahoo.com/paul-van-dyk/videos/view/wir-sind-wir–33442661

(can’t embed this one into my blog, so if you click on the link, it will load the Yahoo video, which is good quality).

Weighing of the Heart, from the Papyrus of Ani, New Kingdom

(Here, Ani and his wife watch the weighing of Ani’s heart. If he has been an honorable person, his heart will be lighter than the feather of truth–which it is. The end of a season, rolling into the next, is metaphoric for this, I think. We pause in contemplation to see what we’ve done, how we’ve behaved, what we can improve–and hopefully gain the strength to move forward, as Ani does).

Updates are Fun: Wrapping up the Fall Semester

From Winter into the New Year

So, it’s been crazy.

This fall, I went back to school, pursuing a second bachelor’s degree (this time in fine arts); technically a third as well, since I’m double-majoring in Asian Studies. I like to collect degrees (and student loans), apparently. Well, hell. Why not. Learning is life.

I also managed to finish a National Novel Writing Month stint during the semester, producing 50,000 (sometimes terribly combined) words in 30 days. You’ve seen snippets of it here. I will probably spend the next couple of years polishing it, but I’ll be sharing tidbits as I pull it together. I’ll probably be asking a few of you (you probably know who you are) to read through it, too.

Plus, I’ve been teaching classes through UNM and doing a bunch of crazy art projects. I had a great “Awakening the Artistic Mind” class this semester, with a bunch of now-opened minds wandering around out there, gathering art supplies. Joy!

Whew. Crazy. Stupid. Fearless. Busy.

I guess I also started the semester out with my 30 Paintings in 30 Days Robot themed challenge. I was happy with some of the work that turned out, but some days were less than inspired, I felt. I have two other 30-paintings-in-30-days projects planned, and I was originally going to do them in November and January, but I am saving them up to perk up a few boring months (do we have those?). Still to come are “boobs” and “ninja clowns & mushrooms.” I haven’t forgotten.

I will be sharing photos of my Book of the Dead project on this blog shortly. I haven’t measured the length of the scroll yet, but it’s pretty damned long, and is all hand-painted, with free verse poetry translations of some of the “spells.” I was fascinated by the modular quality of the Book of the Dead. It was entirely customizable for the deceased and you could build in different transformations you could take (modern people might choose things like “Superman” hee hee). I developed a fictional character, a deceased florist, which was a popular and desirable trade at the time. Like I said, I’ll share more soon.

I think I just scratched the surface of the potential for variations of this project. Somewhere I ran across a great modern remake of it, where the artist tied in personal situations to it, and I think I’ll be doing several more incarnations (heh) of the intriguing book as time goes by. I might try one in a different painted style as well. So, stay tuned for Book of the Dead tidbits.

I also did my first self-portrait this semester.  I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with a finished portrait of myself, but it’s done, and it was more challenging than any other portrait I’ve ever done. Also a blog post upcoming on this. Just need to get off my butt and photograph the finished painting.

I am also doing a map painting project, based on studies of chaos, coincidence, and the movement of people coming together into one space, in one place, at one moment. I’ll share more soon. Let me finish the thing first.

I also dealt with my fair share of drama, stupidity, and crappiness this semester, in the midst of painting, teaching, test-taking, and hair-pulling. A break-in & burglary, petty gossip-mongering, backstabbing, title-taking, copycats, and bullshit. But, here I am. Still me.

Had to spend our savings on bars for our windows and repairs to our home after the break-in, but the cats are safe (and so are we) and it could have been much worse. As for the drama in Albuquerque, it’s always here, like acts played out on a big stage. I am looking forward to new beginnings.

I’ve made some new friends this semester–other eager minds at school. Vibrant. Curious. Funny. I’ve also reconnected with even more old friends. You have no idea how much I enjoy all of your witty banter and daily support.

As I gear up for finals (have a couple this week), I am reminded of the constant ebb and flow of things. We have all ended up in our own special places, at this point in time. Maybe we’re on an ebbing tide, or maybe we’re in the flow. We’re working through it, working toward it, working away from it, or floating on the surface.

I think I might have a brain anueryism from all the stuff I’ve been working on at once–but it will have been fun and maybe worth it.

I’ve made some life-changing decisions (I’ll share some soon!) and I’m working to correct some negative connections I’ve acquired in the last year or two. As 2010 approaches, I’m excitedly looking for the next great chapter.

Did I mention I love Weird Al?

(Here’s to old times and progress toward new beginnings. Do any of you remember this? We kicked ASS at this competition; November, 1990 Arcadia Band Review, before Acciani left).

Posting some new goodies on Etsy, for holiday shopping.

Mention my blog or twitter in the “comments” section when you order, and I’ll throw something extra special into the mix.

I also have gift certificates available.

My Etsy Shop: http://www.etsy.com/shop/plasticpumpkin

Temple in the Storm

Man Going Piss in the Parking lot of the Great Western Forum

Young man:
goatee,
tie-dye,
bandanna bracelets,
cut-off jeans.

In one hand,
he held a white cup.
In the other, his belt and
the flaps of his shorts.

The cup was filling fast,
looking like yellow
and white
stained glass.

–Ren Adams, 1996.
(published in “The Crunge,” 1997)

Ezra Pound was a proponent of “show me don’t tell me,” the art of painting with words. Even plastic cups filled with piss.