Channelling Damien by Derin Attwood

Duncan was a strange kid. Weird, the neighbours called him. He collected things. He had a flat pet collection, the dried remains of things he’d picked up off the road after they’d been run over. He had a dried dung collection, a dead insect collection and a wingless butterfly collection. In the country everyone left him alone, and he collected to his heart’s content, keeping them in an old chook house. They were pleased when he moved to the city.

Dunc was a strange guy. He collected dead things, encased them in resin and displayed them in a gallery. The magazines described him as eccentric and called his collections eclectic. It was terribly chic to attend his openings, and everyone wanted to buy his ‘art’.

But then they realised it was just dead stuff and poop encased in plastic. But they still bought it and pretended it was good.


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11 responses to “Channelling Damien by Derin Attwood

  1. Ha! I’ve often wondered why art was art and sold as such — maybe it’s not all in the marketing but due to our own suppressed desires.
    We both ‘channelled’ a Damien this week. Peace…

  2. Exquisite insight into human nature and merchandising! Nicely done.

  3. Art for art’s sake. Duncan was a strange guy, perhaps, but then, can you blame him?

  4. A scathing critique of the social pressures surrounding art and middle school peer pressure… :) Nicely told.

  5. Sounds like he never really grew up in a way.

  6. grey johnson

    One man’s trash…,eh?
    I enjoyed your tale, and maybe feel a little better about that art I don’t “get”.

  7. guy

    Sounds a bit like Damien Hirst.

  8. “just dead stuff and poop encased in plastic”–What a crack up. Nice job.

  9. Pingback: Week # 30 – Urban convert | 52|250 A Year of Flash

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