human quaalude
apparently that is what makes me want to watch bob ross create happy little trees for hours on end.
never in my life have i wanted to paint, nor have i had the urge to become a painter, nor have i ever particularly desired to watch painters paint on nationally televised programs. and yet i just spent twenty minutes of my life watching him form a mountain landscape out of nothing. my thumb hovered over the remote as i internally listed all the reasons why it was ridiculous to keep watching. i don't paint! i don't know the first thing about painting! there is no reason to kee--ooooooo, pretty waterfall...
i've always found his constant stream of consciousness monologue both ingratiating and infuriating. on the one hand, you wonder if he will ever shut up; on the other hand, it's what makes him so genuinely endearing. well, that and the huge fluffy afro.
catching the joy of painting is a little like falling through a double time warp: recorded mostly in the 80's, it already looked like it was recorded in the 60's, and finding it on pbs nowadays makes me stop for a minute and wonder how old i actually am. i know i can't be the only kid that was mesmerized by this calm soothing man on occasional afternoons after school.
and now i've not only spent part of my life watching bob ross, i've also spent part of my life writing a post about bob ross. wonders never cease.
Reader Comments (14)
I somehow never stumbled across Bob Ross on TV when I was growing up, and let me tell you, I feel deprived.
your very own bob ross game on nintendo wii! how refreshing!
In her pre-children days my mom was pretty artsy and crafty. Somewhere in a back cupboard you can find her paints.
'ol Bob definitely increased my color vocabulary I think my favorite was yellow ocher.
kt - ah yes, the yellow ochre. i seem to remember a cadmium yellow as well. and he used titanium white a lot. who knew the periodic table would be so useful in painting?
I was just talking to someone at work a couple of weeks ago about watching him make a totally awesome picture out of nothing but yellow ochre (and occasionally slapping a wet brush back and forth across his easel) and then he'd slap a big fat happy little tree smack in the middle of the whole thing, painting over all the cool stuff. Twenty minutes of feeling soothed and the last 10 being pissed off.
Bob Ross therapy would probably not work for me, but I still miss the guy....