Eduardo Carrillo’s mystical surrealism became mucho mas claro when I smoked Cheech Marin.
BY ED MURRIETA
Art museums and cannabis are a match that make magic in your head.
A joint rolled from Cheech Marin’s stash helped me see the fallacy of technology mirrored in a painting.
On the Crocker’s wall, a dog lies curled on the floor under the family kitchen table, on the right, beneath a bowl of soup. The painting I’d memorized from the museum’s server was flopped — the dog and the soup on the left side.
I’d just smoked an intoxicating melange of premium small-batch flowers marketed by Cheech Marin, the Chicano godfather of cannabis culture, a collector of Chicano art himself.
I had not walked through the doors of misperception but I was stoned on first sight: The digital image mystically mirrored the original painting.