"An artist discovers his genius the day he dares not to please."
This drink is for artists, writers, and overall creative types beaten down by life and the endless struggle for recognition in the face of insuperable ignorance and indifference. So if you are something other, especially someone in the Law, Real Estate, or Investment Banking, then fuck off!
When Gauguin returned to Paris from Tahiti, he was supremely confident. After all, he brought with him a gallery-full of paintings. Paintings new and fresh and unlike anything the world had yet seen. Arranging a show, he was sure that once people saw his work, that his life would never be the same. How
right he was. Hardly anyone got his new paintings. Most were blithely indifferent. Some were downright hostile during the opening, expressing spontaneous exclamations of disapproval, derision, and derogation. “A red dog!” OMG! “A brown, naked Polynesian girl?!” Why would any self-respecting, white European “artist” even conceive of such a thing as a suitable subject? By the end of the opening, Gauguin was a veritable pariah, relegated to the demimonde, stigmatized and outcast. Of course, after his death, people began to recognize his particular genius and vision. Too little too late, like with his good, but long-suffering friend, Vincent. The true artist is always ahead of his time. If only he could cryogenically freeze himself and be awakened in a hundred years, when his paintings sell at auction for 90 million, and his works are on calendars and coffee mugs. But since most artists don’t do this, but rather, die miserably, impoverished, and alone, I offer to them, this drink.
It’s bittersweet, reflecting the artist’s struggle, but with lots of alcohol. (YES!) It’s a mirror of the experience, and as we drink it, we feel its relentless melancholy. No, the world will NOT suddenly bend in our favor, but YES, this drink in hand will help ease the torment. And the more we drink it, the more palatable it becomes. It looks beautiful, like a painting, but its taste is introspective, yet full of hope. (We keep going, don’t we?) It’s comforting, palliative, soothing (like self-loathing, alcoholism, and dysfunctional relationships). And by the time we finish the first, we feel validated and ready to give it another go. (It’s what we do. What else is there?) And we nod our head to the bartender and say, “Fuck it!” with conviction, as he makes us another round.
Postscript: The name of this drink is taken from a direct quote from Paul Gauguin, musing upon life’s vicissitudes, especially regarding artists and the inscrutable, maddening nature of the human condition.
Avant-garde—By violating the accepted conventions and proprieties not only of art but of social discourse they set out to create ever-new artistic forms and styles and to introduce hitherto neglected, and sometimes forbidden, subject matters. Frequently they represent themselves as “alienated” from the established order, against which they assert their own autonomy; a prominent aim being to shock the sensibilities of the conventional reader, and to challenge the norms and pieties of the dominant bourgeois culture.
LIFE BEING WHAT IT IS,
ONE DREAMS OF REVENGE
1 part Absolut Citron Vodka
½ part Stolichnaya Vodka
½ part St. Germain
½ part Hpnotiq
¼ part Blue Curaçao
splash of Yellow Chartreuse
¼ part fresh-squeezed Lemon juice
dash of Hella Bitters Citrus bitters
Shake over ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
Garnish with 3 fresh raspberries on a pick.
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