Fly Fishing as Art Form? We Offer Definitive Proof.
By Tom Chandler on Jan 2, 2007 in Underground Entertainment
Those Rennaissance men at Moldy Chum - ever vigilant for works of expressive fly fishing-related art - have brought us this Michaelangelo-esque sculpture.
Drawn to high art like moths to flame, we can only stare, slack-jawed in artistic reverie.
The best news? You can own your very own piece of what will undoubtedly become one of fly fishing’s most collectible sculptures.
If it’s one thing the Underground’s all about, it’s art - and the betterment of humanity.
Technorati Tags: fly fishing, sculpture, woman, butt
Nip | Jan 2, 2007 | Reply
Wouldn’t that be Michelob-esque?
Tom Chandler | Jan 2, 2007 | Reply
Clearly, you’re no renaissance man/aesthete. Look at the strong diagonals. Witness the primitivism inherent in the scene. Revel in the raw emotion of the moment.
It’s at least Coors-esque.
kbarton10 | Jan 2, 2007 | Reply
You both fail.
You got caught in the, “…round the creek bend and see Polly Roundbottom…” fantasy.
This artist chose to depict a moment of angling hell.
Perfect coif to the hair, scarlet lipstick intact, this strumpet is about ruin your entire outing.
The water is ice cold, and it is likely she is wading it in bare feet, with you around the bend hoping to actually get out of earshot of her high pitched whine.
It started with wailing about the bug bites on her nether region (depicted prominantly above), and will end when you try to get her to eat breakfast at Jerry’s. (Prounced Jerr-aise, the French restaurant of Burney, Dunsmuir, and all parts north.)
Tonight, she will be sunburnt, swelling rapidly, wind whipped, and iced down. In gratitude, you will take her to Mickey Dee’s, assuming a transfat laden potatolike substance will get her to want to mate with you ?
The car ride home will be deathly silent and you will have earned it.
When she gets back to the office and tells the other girls, your love life will be grot-esque.
Tom Chandler | Jan 4, 2007 | Reply
OK, so kbarton’s definitely of the “glass is half empty of toxic sludge” persuasion, willing to dash the hopes of “around the bend” fly fishers everywhere - people who need to believe that the concept of “nymph” fishing holds meaning far beyond split shot and fuzzy yarn indicators.
He deals a powerful (yet realistic) blow to aging, odoriferous fly fishers everywhere, and frankly, it’s about time.
Still, no combination of words can nullify the moment - frozen in time forever - of our erstwhile featured artwork, copies of which will be for sale in the lobby at intermission…