Allow me to clarify, again, exactly what's "planned".

1) We want you to buy (borrow or steal) a blank postcard.

2) We want you to then adorn this postcard with your own nude drawing, doodle, collage (etc) of Brian Cowen. These creations can be as "amateur", crude or (indeed) lavish as you see fit. There are no rules. The only restriction being the postcard format. Total freedom is yours. Go nuts.

3) Pop your masterwork in the post to me (address available on request).

4) If/When we collect enough postcards together we'll find a sympathetic gallery space where your creations can be exhibited formally. Hell, there may even be (if it grows into a behemoth) catalogues, guest speakers, wine and cheese freebies etc. We'll see.

All of this is (for me at least) in the spirit of subversive play, satirical mischief-making and artistic absurdity. All joyous things worth preserving and promoting.

The serried rows of cards, each depicting (in their own unique ways) a bollock-naked Taoiseach, will (I hope) both make for an impressive visual, and state emphatically (& amusingly) that the outrageous shit of the last few days will not be tolerated.

Email me (or drop a comment below) for postal address.

Let's get moving and cracking.

Update 01/04/09: I'd appreciate it if people who've already posted cards could tell me a) when they posted them, and, b) If the images were full nudes, partial nudes etc! Reason being, most of the cards that have arrived thus far have either been non-nudey or hidden inside envelopes. This could just be coincidental…but I'd still like to know. Drop a comment or email me (address on sidebar).

Update 02/04/09: I've already sent emails (or Twitter messages) with my address to everyone who's shown interest. If you haven't got yours then tell me & I'll resend. There seems to be an issue with some emails disappearing into the ether…

First port of call was the National Portrait Collection of Ireland, Bourn Vincent Gallery (UL). On its stark white walls I stuck my Cowen/Gravely-ill Badger postcard. Like Martin Luther's 95 theses – only with more dotted lines of piss.

And a close up:

The total absence of FF-sponsored, brutally repressive, security guard goons was a disappointment – but the CCTV cameras that watched my every move no doubt wired their signal straight back to party headquarters. I'll be found face down in a dumpster with a plastic bag over my head before the week's out.

With this job done I flung open the doors and headed out into the wilds (i.e a grassy courtyard): there to share my love of freedom with the myriad spirits of nature. There can be no greater act of communion with Mother Earth than Blu-Tacking a rude postcard to a tree. Behold:

And behold again:

This is a softer, almost (dare I say) touching, Cowen nude. There he is for all the world to see. Stripped of his bullish facade. Stripped of his aura of power. Stripped of his jocks. I could just pick him up, kiss him on his tiny little head, and pop him in my breast pocket. If I didn't hate him for pissing on that poor sick badger. Boo!

Update, 25/03/09, 23.48:
Ok. I hereby want to encourage every single person reading this to send me (via post) a nude Brian Cowen postcard (ask for my address and it will be given). If we gather enough together I'll find a way to exhibit them publicly. If some fail to arrive then we'll also have "postalgate" to concern ourselves with. This is not a joke. I genuinely want to do it.

Might I just add. Cock. Balls. Fanny. And R.I.P. Irish satirical play & mischief-making.

Update: Fergal is asking (via Twitter) that the nation be "wallpapered with naked Cowens". So tomorrow, before breakfast, hell…before anything, get the pens and paper out and create your own hideous nudey portrait of our immortal leader. Then saunter out (whistling a merry tune as you go) and stick it to the nearest public wall, lamp-post, passer-by etc. Do it. For the sake of the nation's children.

Further Update: Damien is demanding much the same thing. Viene una tormenta.

Said beast dug the pens and colouring pencils out of the desk drawer and (after a mere 10 minutes of frenzied work) came up with this minor masterpiece.

Those with keenly honed deductive senses will (if they can drag their bulging eyes away from the horse's spurting mickey for a moment) notice that the "canvas" is a postcard. Reason being – I'm sending it through the post. To myself. Using aliases for both sender and receiver.

Here's the cheery, and fairly innocuous, message from the reverse side.¹

How many pairs of hands, I wonder, will it pass through before it returns to me? Will the faces attached to the bodies attached to those hands register shock, bemusement, indifference or delight? Might it be seized before it reaches its destination? Destroyed by censorious objectors or secretly smuggled home by a Naïve art smut collector? We'll see (or maybe we won't).

RE: The bishop's facial expression – not sure what effect I was going for here exactly. Looking at it again I seem to have given him a touch of weary (self-loathing?) listlessness. A jaded ennui brought on by one session of being pissed on by a (cartoon) horse too many. It used to be fun – now it's merely routine. Ho hum.

1. Address partially excised for reasons of privacy. [back]

Apologies if you've just spurted your precious morning coffee all over your keyboard, but the above graffito does indeed say what you think it says. Take another look. Yup, it's still there.

To add an extra layer of intrigue (or, simply, seediness) I should point out that the piece was discovered beside a public toilet. Not only that, but it appears to have been written in nail varnish (a sample has been sent to the lab. Results not yet known).¹

Though the message may seem garishly clear, the inclusion of the (author's?) name "Cathal" gives us some pause for thought and reflection.²

The stray "V" in the middle of the photo could be interpreted as "Versus". If that's the case then we're left with "Cathal Vs. Vaginas are Cool" – a Dadaist spin on the likes of Godzilla Vs. King Kong.³ Whatever the case may be, it's hard to argue with the core argument/sentiment.

Following on from last Thursday's discussion of "pen-testing paper" graffiti, I also present the following (obtained from the same source):

Alvaro, it seems, has both a passionate admirer and a (possibly psychotic) nemesis. While the handwriting (and choice of implement) suggests two separate individuals, one can't rule out a multiple personality, love/hate scenario.

Alvaro I love you! Alvaro u Must Die! – It's an Almodóvar film waiting to happen.

1. I was not the discover. Credit goes to Mairéad Conneely and John O'Callaghan. [back]
2. Like a Graffitti version of the Angelus. [back]
3. It could also, I suppose, have hip-hop connotations. [back]

I'm not sure to what extent "Grafitti Studies" has (as a discipline) permeated academic institutions, but I'd be surprised if the below offshoot of the artform has recieved much scholarly attention.

The circumstances in which such graffiti is created are quite specific: customer enters a shop looking for a nice pen; customer decides to try out a selection before making a purchase; customer finds a scrap of paper reserved for pen testing and gets scribbling.

The results of this activity are usually fairly unremarkable – squiggly lines, the individual's signature etc. Occasionally, however, the customer – faced with this opportunity to express him/herself – opts to engage in some quick doodling (a spurty penis perhaps?) or to compose a cryptic/crude message.

I can never resist browsing through these scraps of hastily composed wit and wisdom. I even pocket them occasionally – as I did while buying stationery the other day. Here's a sample:

Ah Daisy and Andross (?), I hope those crazy kids make it. Let this be an enduring testament to their 4Life Luv (2Getha 4Eva).

This strikes me as from the same hand (or school of thought) as "Dave F Has A Bonner All The Time". Is it an insult or merely a statement of (alleged) fact?

This is one I intend to keep in my back pocket at all times. When the ceaseless rain and life's slings & arrows start making me blue, I'll reach for this fragment and read it quietly to myself: "Brendan Loves You", "Brendan Loves You"…

All the pain and doubt will just melt away. It's amazing what love can do.

A doodle. Done at work. Inspired by the day that's in it. Or possibly something else entirely.

[tags]International Women's Day, Doodles[/tags]