The binary star-system theory is in full swing here in this sappy application of oil-based coagulant Kinkade calls his "ministry." The sun is pretty clearly most likely the glowy area behind the alleged gingerbread construction that looks like the usual stone substance from the Kinkade paint quarries. And yet the whole front yard is in perfect - and I don't mean "perfect," - what I mean is you can see it - visibility. Nothing is perfect in a Kingade painting except in his own analysis of it. The front of this house should be completely black. Except of course from the illumination provided by the ten thousand watts of electricity that bleeds out of the windows like generator-driven Tesla coils. But this would take some level of artistic aptitude to accomplish. Any high school student who doodles in his notebook rather than listens to the teacher could do it. A grafitti artist who paints the sides of railroad cars on the sneak could do it. But then we wouldn't be able to see the red bushes and the blue hedges and the maroon shrubs and the bright orange tree in the back yard. The green tree in the FRONT yard is of course not as close to the sun as the tree in the bak yard so it displays none of the high intensity emanations as the tree in the back which is 50 feet closer to the sun which is 90 million miles away. The large yellow bush on the right with the pollen-drenched weed blooms is glaring at us like a spray-painted truck fender. If this mess was handed-in as a completed assignment at any art school Kinkade would be thrown out on his ear. It is plain and simple a revolting mess. And you do not have to be someone who hates thomas Kinkade for his profound piety to fail him on this painting assignment. Although he might claim that that is the motivation. It is often the "Christian" version of the race card. Christians feel picked on because they have brains of soup, and so they assume it is because they are soldiers for Christ. No: it is because they have brains of soup. The shock of the born-again experience must liquify the interiors of their skulls. They lose all reason. They see things that aren't there and cannot see what is there. They wonder why people are reluctant to convert. They wonder why even Wiccans are able to back them into a corner in a debate. It's because you think paintings like this are metaphysically enlightening paths to God Almighty. Dudes!....It's just a really messed-up painting! With a phenomenal price tag! In fairness, I cannot fault Kinkade for charging what he does. Nobody has to pay it. He doesn't out a gun to anyone's head, he likely can't operate one. And even if he could he still wouldn't because he probably couldn't operate one that well. I mean, look at how he paints. But enough from me, what do I know. Let's see what the maestro has to say about this masterpiece.
"Gingerbread Cottage is based on a real 19th Century house I discovered in Southern England. The whimsical structure with its brick, stone, wood filigree, shingle siding, awnings, dormers, and spires, revels in a spirit of romantic excess. Here is the fairy tale charm of Hansel and Gretel's Gingerbread Cottage brought to life.
The front garden is a riot of rainbow colors with lavish flowers dancing in the evening breeze. I've provided a whimsical bench from which you may enjoy the advance of evening at Gingerbread Cottage.
-Thomas kinkade"
Get a load of this guy. He's provided a whimsical bench. He just drew one in. He didn't provide anything. You can't really sit there. You don't buy a fucking painting and then sit on a bench in the front and look in the other direction. Wait! That IS what you would do with a Kinkade painting. Could be he's a little more on the ball than I have given him credit for. A "riot" of colors. You sure don't read that anywhere very often. However in this case it is true. It's more than a riot, it's a psychedelic overload.
And not a groovy one. It's a grotesquerie of colors. Where the fuck is this evening breeze he's talkin' about. Hey dude, if there's a breeze in a picture it has to be actually depicted somehow, you don't just proclaim it. I don't know if he is actually familiar with Hansel and Gretel but the gingerbread house was to be their death container. The house doesn't revel in the spirit of romantic excess it revels in artistic incompetence. Just because you pronounce it doesn't make it so. It only does with God. And I don't hear much comin' from His direction at the moment to me about this. But I hear a hell of a lot comin' from you. None of whichj I can verify with my own two eyes. Maybe I need to look at this with the eyes of faith. Hey, then why put anything on the canvas at all, dude? Cy Twombly gets away with it, and he's big stuff in the art world. You oughta try it. Start first by getting rid of the blue greenery.
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