Velvet Elvis

Las Vegas is not my cup of tea. Nevertheless, for the motivated seeker, the city can offer up some surprisingly cool things. Like my hursbin. And, more to today's point, my hursbin's Velvet Elvis, which he once deemed "The Undisputed Crown Jewel of Las Vegas, America." You may scoff at velvet paintings, and, 99.9% of the time, I join you in that. But this! This, friends, is art.



This "piece" depicts the King near the end of his run, and I think the artist manages to evoke a clear and poignant scene. Picture it: E.P. blearily slurring Love Me Tender, with what's left of his mind on a handful of prescription meds and a double-decker fried peanut butter and banana sandwich, while an ageing fan flings her saggy drawers in his direction. Just look at the sweat on his clammy brow! How, I ask you, how does one render the sheen of cold sweat on velvet?! Brilliant!


In other news, I just found out that my poor little brother has developed a pimple on his nose so prodigious in size that his eye is swollen and he is unable to don sunglasses. To make matters worse, he lives in LA and he's in sales. Think on that.