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. 

I’d arrived at Sacramento’s Crocker Art Museum to see Chicano master Eduardo Carrillo’s mystical surrealism.

In the weeks I’d waited for my delivery of Cheech’s Private Stash to coincide with the next corporate-sponsored, pay-what-you-wish third Sunday, I’d Googled Carrillo.

The first image I clicked was on the museum’s server, the painting whose name titles the exhibit, “Testament of the Spirit,” the very painting that greets visitors

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.