I don't get it: Jean-Michel Basquiat

I once dated this fine art major from the academy of art
college.She was a bit introverted at times but tended to
emerge from that shell with a bat outta hell fury when 
angered or passionate about an issue.So her and I are on 
the haight and we go into this poster shop.she stops and
and asked me; do you know jean michel basquiat? asking 
me in a tone that seemed to indicate irrevocable damage 
to our relationship was at hand should I answer poorly.
not wanting to be erroneously outed as a liar, I simply
said no, I am not familiar with jean michel basquiat.
surprised, she looked at me as if I had looked in the
mirror and said: you know what? I hate you niggaz.
In an ever so sexy low tone, she explained a short
history of this painter and then she gentility grabbed
my wrist and led me to a stack of posters.


I was expecting to see some undiscover 20th century
new york answer to leonardo du vinci or vincent van
gogh.Instead I get these.....

 If star wars came out in Shakespeare's day,

I would imagine this is what the darth vader 

of his day would look like.   

AFTER MY EXPOSURE to these...umm...yeah...
I asked her, oh wow! was he insane?
At this point, my girl was clearly offended.
she went on into a whole discussion about
not "getting it" and how I shouldn't be in
art school because I lack the vision to see
beauty in the abstract and so forth and so on.


I retorted by asking her has she ever seen 
the paintings they found made from serial 
killers and mass murderers? well these would
definitely fit in the lot for sure.This led to 
an intense yet low decibel trade off of passive
aggressive quips.I swear even arguing with that
girl was a strange venture down the rabbit hole.
A day later, I went back to that store alone
and for almost 15 minutes (and after fighting
off the strong compulsion to make the sign of
the cross numerous times before those painting)
I went from a strong silent and contemplative
stone pillar stance to a loud and eruptive
THIS SHIT IS GARBAGE! WHAT THE FUCK IS THE 
DEAL WITH THIS OVERRATED SPLASH OF SHOCKING
AND DISTURBING VOMIT OF QUASI ARTISTIC INSANITY
WORTH ONLY THE CANVAS IT WAS PAINTED ON!?


Surprised by that flood of seldom used vernacular
and vocabulary, I stopped myself.Then was asked 
to leave the store, NO SWEAT,I've BEEN KICKED OUT
OF BETTER PLACES THAN THIS.
I guess word got back to my girlfriend because
she broke up with me that evening.

Look, I'm not ashamed of the fact that I could 
stand in an art gallery scratching in perplexity.
Wondering what one sees in abstract expressionism.
I'm not insecure about my uncultured and unrefined
nature.I'm proud of my blue collar, sports bar
self.


yes I do miss the GF from time to time, although
we aren't talking, we do past each other and say
hi.But I still get pretty peeved when I realize
that our relationship came to an end over JMB.
It couldn't be a micheal angelo? 

I guess our relationship was less fine art and
more chicken scratch.