Topic: Fun & Whimsy

  • Stonehenge

    “Stonehenge” by Jason Kotecki. 30 x 24. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    I remember the painting critiques back in art school. After spending several weeks working on our masterpieces, we’d all sit in a circle and explain what our paintings were about. Someone would inevitably say their piece was a postmodern reaction to the psychological impact of the industrial revolution that caused existential dread. To me, it looked like a canvas with some paint sloppily applied. It did seem like the students who were better at making “serious” art got better grades. (Or perhaps they were just better at explaining why their art was serious.)

    Perhaps this is why, after making this painting of Stonehenge, constructed with ice cream sandwiches, I feel obliged to explain why.

    There are many theories about what Stonehenge is, who built it, when it was built, and what purpose it served. Many theories, but nobody knows for sure.

    Of course, someone put them there. Someone had a reason for it.

    Most theories assume it served some sort of “serious” purpose concerning astrological events or burial rituals. But maybe it was simply a good challenge that helped pass the time because nobody had invented cable yet. Maybe it was a primitive tourist attraction. Maybe it was just for fun.

    People flock to Stonehenge not because they know what purpose it served, but because of the mystery. And mystery is fun. Plus, it looks cool. Which is also fun.

    Whimsy and fun are often seen as extra, nonessential. But fun is its own reason for being.

    Imagine having the opportunity to jump into a pool of noodles. No child would ever wait until they could answer the question, “But what purpose does this serve?”

    People with Adultitis need data and statistics before they justify why having fun is important. They can be found, but if you ask me, most of them are common sense.

    Employees who are having fun are happier and do better work.

    Customers who are having fun spend more money.

    Leaders who are having fun attract more followers.

    These are theories that explain why we should take having fun seriously. Why not have fun simply because… it’s fun?

    We are constantly in the pursuit of happiness. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen someone having fun who is unhappy. Do we really need data to prove that a life filled with fun is better than one that isn’t?

    Why did those ancient people build Stonehenge? I don’t know.

    Why did I paint Stonehenge made out of ice cream sandwiches? Because I thought it would be fun.

    Sometimes, that’s the only reason you need.

  • Melt With You

    “Melt With You” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is available. 🟢 Shop this art!

    Well, it’s official: The end of the world is upon us.

    It sure seems that way, doesn’t it?

    2020 has not been for the faint of heart, and just when you think it can’t get any worse, well, just wait for tomorrow. The thing is, every generation fears it’s living in the last days. And so far, every one has been wrong. I’m old enough to remember some of the Cold War and the events that transpired on 9/11/2001. Things looked bleak then, too. 

    This cheerful painting was inspired by a song about the end of the world. The words are from the lyrics of a catchy tune from the 1980s by a band named Modern English. Lead singer Robbie Grey, who wrote the seemingly simple upbeat love song with his four bandmates, explained, “I don’t think many people realized it was about a couple making love as the bomb dropped. As they make love, they become one and melt together.”

    Alllllrighty then.

    On to another fun fact: This was the very first canvas I painted live during the first-ever Madison Night Market. It was also the first time I offered my art for sale to an audience that hadn’t just heard me speak. Previously, I’d only sold my art at my speaking engagements, after spending an hour sharing my art on a big screen and telling stories to a captive audience. But here, my art would be standing on its own. No explanation. No context.

    As I painted away, I was able to hear people’s reactions to the painting and the prints we had for sale. What I heard was magic. People smiled and laughed and pulled their friends over to take a look.

    Quite simply, my art made people happy. And that made me feel awesome. I concluded right then and there that if that’s all I was ever able to accomplish, it was a worthy calling, and it would be enough.

    This is kind of a big deal because, you see, in the art world, it’s not enough. An artist is supposed to make a political statement, disturb people, or question everything they hold true. Which is fine, as far as it goes. But putting good into the world, making someone happy, and bringing a small measure of joy to a fellow human being is pretty good, too.

    Which brings me back to this song about apocalyptic hanky-panky.

    While we wait to see if the world is going to end, let’s do something productive with our time. It seems like we can find better options than rioting in the streets, cowering in fear in front of our TVs, and ranting on social media.

    Instead, what’s ONE thing you can do today to make someone’s day just a teeny bit brighter? How can you use one of your gifts to make someone happy? It might not seem like much, but it’s enough.

    Regardless of when the world ends, we all have a last day coming. I can’t say for certain that I’ll spend it in the fashion described in the aforementioned ’80s song. But if I can make someone happy on my last day (and on many of the days between now and then), I’m good with that.

    How about you?

  • Where The Party’s At

    “Where The Party’s At” by Jason Kotecki. 16 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Piñatas are great fun, but only if they actually contain candy. We may be drawn in by the bright colors that promise a good time, but it’s quite a disappointment if, after a few whacks, it’s revealed that there’s actually nothing inside. Whomp whomp.

    The thing that makes a piñata so irresistible is what’s inside.

    The idea behind this painting is that if you’ve got a piñata, you’ve got a party, even if you’re in the middle of a barren wasteland. It was inspired by a song by the Newsboys, called “Wherever We Go.”

    Here are some of the lyrics:

    Wherever we go, the dumb get wise
    And the crime rates drop and the markets rise
    It’s a curious thing
    But it’s just our thing

    Bullies make nice, crooks repent
    And the Ozone layer shows improvement
    It’s a curious thing
    And it’s humbling

    Where we’re led, all the living dead
    Wanna leave their zombie mob
    It’s a touching scene when they all come clean
    God help us, we just love our job

    Hands up, holler back now
    We don’t claim any know-how
    We’re giving God all that
    Wherever we go, that’s where the party’s at

    One of the reasons this song has always resonated with me is that it feels like my life. I am a professional permission granter. I encourage people to make ugly cakes, to draw on their children, and break stupid rules. I make colorful paintings featuring objects with smiley faces on them. When people hire me to speak, they gain permission to have all kinds of fun with the theme and branding. People love it when I bring my family with me to gigs.

    It feels like wherever we go, that’s where the party’s at.

    That being said, I have a confession to make: I have never been the life of a party, and our family is not as fun as you think it is.

    Don’t get me wrong. We do have fun together, we do more than our fair share of kitchen dancing, and Adultitis is not welcome in our home. But I often get the sense that people think that living in our house is like being on an episode of Pee Wee’s Playhouse. Well, if you’re old enough to remember that puppet-fueled gem of a show, today’s secret word is: “letdown.”

    Even as we prepare to leave our beloved neighborhood in Madison for new shenanigans in Sheboygan, our neighbors are flooding us with heartfelt well-wishes. It appears we will be missed. And although I’ve never felt I’ve misrepresented what life is like in our family, I got the sense that people were seeing something more.

    One day, I realized people were resonating with more than our outside appearances and outward actions. Like a piñata, what people are really attracted to is what’s inside us. 

    Our joy.

    In my twenty years of writing and speaking, I haven’t talked that much about my faith, preferring to live by the old St. Francis adage, “Preach the gospel always, and if necessary use words.” But the truth is, our faith is what drives everything.

    It’s where our joy comes from. I know some people don’t have it, but I can’t imagine my life without it. It’s what sustained us in the long periods of darkness when we were in debt and didn’t know if we’d ever make a living with the business. The Holy Spirit is what stirs my imagination and gives me the courage to do things I never could have imagined as a shy, scared little boy.

    In our household, we are celebrating the season of Advent as we prepare our Christmas. My favorite song of this time is O Come Emmanuel. 

    Emmanuel means “God with us.” 

    And that’s the difference between a party and an empty piñata filled with nothing but disappointment. 

    Some consider faith to be a crutch. An opiate for the masses. But I see my faith as a gift. 

    I don’t know how to give it to someone, but I do know this: People are searching for happiness, but what I think they really crave is joy, which is deeper and less fleeting.

    Joy is an inside job.

    If you have it, wherever you go, that’s where the party’s at.

  • C Plane

    “C Plane” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴  Shop this art!

    Remember alphabet soup?

    I ask you to remember because the last time you had it probably wasn’t yesterday or last week. It may have been a decade or four.

    Something about alphabet soup brings out a sense of wonder and curiosity in us as kids. We stir it around to see if any secret messages emerge randomly, like a vegetable-fueled Ouiji board. We use our spoon to carefully arrange our own words, spell our name, a simple sentence, or maybe a dirty word…Just me?

    But then we outgrow alphabet soup. Why?

    Are we afraid our sophistication will be challenged? That we’ll be considered immature? That people won’t take us seriously?

    In a seemingly unrelated note, it’s impossible for me to see an airplane and not think of my father-in-law, Gary. He loves airplanes. He used to drag his wife and four daughters to air shows. Their reviews of the regular excursions are mixed, but one thing was constant: it was always an opportunity for Gary’s inner child to soar.

    I had the pleasure of attending the Oshkosh Airshow with him a few years ago. According to him, it’s the Super Bowl of air shows. He may have technically been sixty at the time, but it seemed more like he was six. His passion for airplanes has never faded.

    Recently, he took my kids to watch sky divers jump out of planes and land safely a few feet from them on the ground. You might think he wanted to share a passion with his grandkids. You’d be partly right, but let’s be honest, it didn’t really matter if there was anyone else around. It was merely an excuse to indulge in a little bit of wonder.

    When we are kids, we are drawn to wonder, and there are so many things that light us up and get us excited.

    Too often, like our declining consumption of alphabet soup, we neglect or hide the things that light us up.

    Maybe it’s because we are afraid our sophistication will be challenged. Or that we’ll be considered immature. Or that people won’t take us seriously.

    There is a phrase we often use: guilty pleasures. They are things we enjoy but feel guilty for doing so. Usually, there is no real reason we should feel guilty; it’s just that they threaten our carefully curated likes and dislikes that fit in with the people we associate with or want respect from. 

    I’m with Dave Grohl, lead singer of the Foo Fighters, who said, “F*¢K guilty pleasures.” Like what you like. If you like Britney Spears, like Britney Spears. 

    Embrace your guilty pleasures. Find what lights you up and love it. Reconnect with the passions that get your inner child fired up and own them. 

    Never outgrow your sense of wonder. 

  • In This Kitchen We Dance

    “In This Kitchen We Dance” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    I painted this for my wife’s 40th birthday. It’s one of her favorite quotes, and it perfectly captures the spirit that fills our kitchen.

    As kids, we danced all the time. We danced when we were excited. We danced when we were happy. We even danced when we were bored. Why did we ever stop?

    Maybe we started worrying about looking foolish.

    Maybe we’ve discovered that the world isn’t as carefree as we thought it was. 

    Maybe we are afraid of pulling something.

    The kitchen often serves as the primary gathering place in a home. From time to time, our kitchen hosts spontaneous dance parties. If a favorite song comes on, we crank the volume, and our family of five casts our cares to the wind and shakes our booties to the music. Mind you, these dance parties are mostly devoid of any talent (although my son Ben has some sweet moves), but they are always bursting with joy and enthusiasm.

    You see, kitchen dancing doesn’t require sweet moves.

    It does require you to move, however. Even a little booty shake can make your body feel better.

    It also requires the willingness to be vulnerable by looking a little silly, which is one of the most intimate ways to bond with another person.

    And it requires the ability to take oneself lightly, which helps lighten the heavy loads that weigh us down.

    That’s why, in our kitchen, we dance.

    Do you in yours?

  • The Burger King

    “The Burger King” by Jason Kotecki. 40 x 40. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    When Kim and I are goofing off, either alone or with the kids, one of us will often challenge the other to “own it.” What this means is that we have to push away any iota of self-consciousness and fully commit to 100% concentrated silliness.

    When you see someone trying to act like a funny character or dance ridiculously, you can tell if they are not “owning it.” You can tell they feel awkward, and that awkwardness makes you feel a little awkward, too.

    But if you’ve ever seen someone “own it,” it’s like they’re the only person in the room. They look patently ridiculous — way more so than the person who feels awkward being just a little silly — and they positively don’t care.

    That is powerful.

    Each of us has a line that marks how far we are willing to go in looking silly in front of others. For most of us, that line is not very far away. Some people will do anything to avoid looking the least bit silly in public. We don’t dance in public, wear anything that might draw a sideways glance, or even raise our hands to ask a question if we think everyone else already knows the answer.

    Elite comedians are willing to go shockingly beyond that line. They go so over-the-top in their commitment to the bit, owning it in a way that clearly shows that they simply don’t care how silly they look.

    Amy Poehler rightly said, “There’s power in looking silly and not caring that you do.”

    We often assume that if we are too silly, people won’t take us seriously. But the irony is that the less we care about how silly we look, the more confidence we project. And confidence is power. We are more attracted to people with confidence. People follow confident leaders. We say yes to requests made with confidence.

    I considered making this painting 12 x 12 inches. What a stupid choice that would have been. The original painting is almost four feet square, and thank goodness. This painting is about the power of not caring about looking silly. It’s important that this lion, one of the most powerful creatures on earth, is life-size. Being face-to-face with him gives you a real sense of his power. 

    The fact that this lion, one of the most powerful creatures on Earth, is wearing a silly little paper crown from a fast-food joint does nothing to minimize that power.

    Are you going to be the one to tell him he looks like an idiot?

    Even if you did, it’s pretty clear that he wouldn’t care one whit about your opinion.

    We can’t control the opinions of others or what they think of us. But that doesn’t matter, because you are enough. You don’t need anyone else’s permission or validation to feel valuable. Own the power that comes from being you–your wonderful, weird, and wacky you, and not caring about what other people think.

    When you can own that? Well, that’s as powerful as you can be.

  • A Little Whimsy

    “A Little Whimsy” by Jason Kotecki. 40 x 40. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    The moment we have fully succumbed to Adultitis is the moment we turn down a twisty straw for a regular one.

    The mane on this giraffe is pink and purple. In the early stage of this painting, the spots were different colors, too.

    But as it developed, I decided to go with more natural colors. Except for the mane, of course.

    And that whimsical twisty straw.

    The moment we have fully succumbed to Adultitis is the moment we turn down a twisty straw for a regular one.

    Would you like to generate a little bit more positive word of mouth for your business? Maybe improve employee morale and engagement? See your customer satisfaction ratings rise? Attract more people to your association or cause? Would you be interested in making life feel a little bit more magical? Here’s the secret: Add a little whimsy.

    Please note! I said “a little.” Like a single drop of food coloring in a pitcher of water, a little whimsy is enough to transform everything.

    For me, the giraffe in this painting represents this concept:

    Too much whimsy and no one takes you seriously. Just the right amount and the world takes notice.

    Let me give you an example. One of my favorite things about Canada are the walk signs. I’ve been trying to figure out why. I think it’s because he has cute little feet and seems a bit more laid back in posture compared to his U.S. cousin, who is in a more forward-leaning position (giving the feeling of being in a hurry). Plus, he has no feet. (Maybe he’s hunched over in pain?)

    See what I mean? I think the U.S. walk signs have Adultitis. It’s a subtle difference, almost imperceptible, but I’d much rather be the fellow on the left, wouldn’t you?

    Just a little bit of whimsy is enough to remind you of the child that still lives inside. The one secretly sticking its tongue out at your idiot boss. The one that knows that even though you have to fill out that tax form doesn’t mean you have to like it. The one who believes in having fun simply for the joy of it.

    Something like wearing colorful socks, dying a pink streak in your hair, or adding some stickers to your laptop lets Adultitis know there’s a new sheriff in town.

    It adds a little color and zest to a life that may have veered too far into the gray.

    On the whole, it’s tempting to see these little touches as frivolous, superfluous, and insignificant. But they actually do something quite important: They have the power to uplift the human spirit.

    Something we need now more than ever.

    Whenever you can add a little gladness and gaiety to a person’s day, do it. P.T. Barnum once said, “The noblest art is that of making others happy.”

    Never underestimate the power of a little whimsy.

  • The Princess Dress

    “The Princess Dress” by Jason Kotecki. 36 x 36. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    This painting was inspired by my daughter.

    Our family loves going on walks. A half mile from our house, there is a row of lakefront homes. A small sliver of land between two of them serves as a public access point to the lake. A few years ago, an hour before the sun tucked itself in for the night, we pushed our strollers through the skinny green passageway to enjoy the pint-sized plot of beach that was ours.

    It wasn’t long before my oldest began wading in the water, delighted by the sand squishing between her toes. Lucy was wearing last year’s Halloween costume — a sparkly pink and yellow princess dress — because, well…just because. The gentle waves kissed the bottom of her gown. I considered telling her to be careful not to ruin it, but reasoned that a little water never hurt anyone.

    Meanwhile, Ben was outfitted in his Incredible Hulk costume — you know, just because — and for some reason, was lying face-down in the sand. Motionless. He looked like a big green sea turtle who had come in with the tide to build a nest. We’d be finding sand on him days later.

    By the time I turned my attention back to Lucy, she was in lake water up to her armpits, princess dress and all! I stood there, in stunned silence, as the supercomputer in my brain whizzed through its vast database in search of some rule frowning upon the intermingling of lakes and princess dresses. (Old Halloween costume or not, that dress wasn’t cheap, and I didn’t want it ruined.) But the warm smile that beamed widely across her face suggested that perhaps this was yet another rule that doesn’t exist.

    In that moment, with the sun setting behind her, I realized that Lucy was living life as well as it could possibly be lived. Too often, we fall far short of this ideal. Why? 

    Because we’re afraid of getting our princess dress wet.

    And we all have one. Our “princess dress” is the carefully curated version of ourselves that we show off to others. It’s the way we look, speak, and act. It’s our degree and our job title, our home and hairstyle, our cars, clothes, and 401ks, all wrapped into one pretty package and tied with a bow that signifies that we are responsible, sophisticated, and successful.

    In order to keep this princess dress looking good, we must live a life of restraint. No full-out running, no sitting on the ground, no eating messy things, and certainly no swimming in lakes.

    We are given countless opportunities to dive headfirst into the experience of life, but we are too afraid to mess up our hair, our clothes, or our reputation. Because running through puddles, making a mess, or doing something silly for the sheer sake of fun sullies the dress we’ve worked so hard to preserve. And besides, people like “us” don’t do things like “that.”

    While settling for good enough, we miss the insanely great.

    Guess what? After the dip in the lake, Lucy’s princess dress went into the washing machine and came out… good as new.

    Fear does a pretty good job of keeping us from living an amazing life. But it’s a horrible predictor of the future.

    Don’t settle for dipping your toes into this adventure called life. For best results, spend more of your time up to your armpits in awesome. 

    Don’t be afraid to get your princess dress wet.

  • The Captain

    “The Captain” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    I present to you a painting I made of a pirate ship sailing in an ocean of milk amidst floating Cap’n Crunch cereal.

    I thought long and hard about conjuring up some deep meaning on this one. Something that would make you shake your head in amazement and say, “Wow. He is a truly brilliant artist and thinker.”

    But you know what? There isn’t any deep meaning. The truth is, I was thinking about Cap’n Crunch cereal, which I love, and thought about a tiny pirate ship sailing in a bowl of it, which would be neat. But then I thought, what if the ship was normal-sized and the whole ocean was milk and it had giant pieces of Cap’n Crunch floating in it? That would be weirder, and possibly neater. 

    So that’s what I did: gave myself over to pure whimsy.

    As we get older, Adultitis takes over and kills our whimsy. We grow increasingly skilled in the art of taking ourselves too seriously. And all that seems to bring us is anxiety, stress, and a life totally devoid of fun. 

    We’ve mastered the ability to make the trivial monumental. We fret about all sorts of things, from gas prices and elections to how we’re going to kill those weeds in the yard and what we should wear to next Friday’s function.

    Becoming more responsible is one thing. But losing our sense of whimsy and taking ourselves too seriously is another. 

    I have long admired people like Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl because they created magical characters and worlds that are so rich with whimsy. Their art depicts preposterous, physics-bending, imagination-stirring images and scenarios that exhibit a ridiculousness that is wholly original and entertaining. Meanwhile, within the context of their art, all of it comes across as completely normal. How did they do that? 

    It can be hard for me to give myself over to this pure, unadulterated nonsense, which I consider to be the unfiltered essence of the spirit of childhood. As someone who often errs on the side of practicality and reason, I have always wished I could be more like Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl. After discovering Adultitis and its evil tricks early in my adult life, I have spent my life trying to get back to that level of creative abandon. Back to normal.

    And yet here I am, having created a painting that exists at least within the same universe as those two greats, frustrated because I cannot come up with words to explain the meaning of this painting. 

    Because there isn’t one. 

    And thankfully, I think to myself, “Well, finally. Some progress.”

    It took a while to become an expert at taking yourself seriously; it will take a while to get back to normal. Give yourself permission to start.

  • Space Invaders

    “Space Invaders” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Some of you are old enough to remember the Atari video game system. A far cry from the advanced graphics we see in games today. And only one button!

    One of the most popular games was called Space Invaders, which I have featured prominently in this painting. It was a simple concept: you try to shoot as many aliens as you can as they descend down your screen. As the game continues, the aliens descend at an ever-increasing speed. If they reach the bottom, the alien invasion is successful, and the game ends.

    To me, this is a great metaphor for Adultitis, a disease that Kim and I have committed our lives to help defeat. All of you are familiar with this enemy, even if you’re hearing the name for the first time. It’s what happens when you lose your sense of wonder, your curiosity, and your childlike zest for life.

    Quite literally, Adultitis means “swelling of the adult.” And when you’re walking around with too much adult, your life is more stressful and less fun.

    Although I wish there were a magic potion or miracle cure that ended Adultitis once and for all, there just isn’t. Adultitis is always coming after us, just like those aliens. You can blast down a whole screen by going to Disney World, but on your first day back to work, another wave is ready to strike.

    The key, I think, is to look at fighting Adultitis as a game. It’s most deadly when it hides in the shadows, convincing you to take yourself too seriously and getting you to focus on the negative.

    But if you notice where it tries to sabotage you and laugh at its advances, you can diffuse its power.

    Our family has had great fun in acknowledging when Adultitis has gained the upper hand, and we encourage one another to fight back. Extreme cases call for a pajama run or a spontaneous dance party in the kitchen.

    My Dad always says, “Everything happens for a reason.”

    I make it a game to try to figure out the reason. Anytime something bad happens, I start thinking about what good could come from it. What if you looked at the challenges you face like any other game?

    • Instead of looking at making payroll as a life-or-death situation, make it into a game.
    • Instead of worrying about not getting everything done today, make it into a game.
    • Instead of stressing out over how you’ll ever be able to conform to the new regulations in your industry, make it into a game.

    Instead of acting like your current challenge is something found in the bad-tasting medicine aisle, mentally repackage it in primary colors and take it from the toy section. Breathe. Smile. Have some fun with it. By looking at it as a game and clearing your mind of the useless worst-case scenarios, you’ll actually be MORE likely to notice the people, opportunities, and ideas you’ll need to win.

    You may believe that the stakes are much higher now compared to a silly game of Space Invaders. But are they really? With VERY few exceptions, the truth is that our fear of failure is worse than the consequences that come from actually failing. Sure, the project very well might flop, your efforts might go to waste, or someone may laugh at you. You could get rejected, dejected, or fired.

    Sometimes, like the aliens, Adultitis advances past your defenses and wins the day.

    But you know what? The good news is that you can hit reset and start again. Life WILL go on. It’ll be ok. You’ll be able to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get ready for the new — even better! — opportunity right around the corner.

    Are you game?