Writingbolt's Creation

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On the flip side of all the negative things I’ve had to say about the Paris 2024 Olympics (most of which can be transferred to other Olympics I’ve watched), there is the bounty of artistry I’ve experienced (not just with my eyes). Not all of it is great in my personal opinion, but almost every bit of creativity I’ve seen (and heard) has sparked interest.

I don’t recall any other Olympics featuring so much stimulation, so much inspiration.

I can remember a few seasons that had one or two inspirational and/or catchy songs which stole my focus away from the actual competition (not including a particular song which seems to have invaded more than one Olympics like a weed…if you can imagine that). [I cannot adequately nor briefly explain why the song irks me; it just does. It’s like those songs people grow to hate because they remind them of a relationship that ended badly.]

I remember fawning over various female athletes. Every season, there are those women who just make me want to drift away from reality, muses of strength and elegance (those who aren’t covered in jewelry or tattoos, anyway). They are like unicorns you may see but cannot touch. The best I can do, for now, is watch them, briefly, explore what astrology has to say about them…and, maybe, draw portraits, which I’d let them have (prints of) for free, because they deserve to be drawn. [I’d hang onto the original artworks just because I don’t want to lose the memory of the moment, the feelings I had and the faces responsible for those feelings.]

I recall a few dazzling cauldrons (the final resting places of the torch relays) but forget their exact shapes and what nations had them. I remember the Sochi games using large versions of their mascots** in a very amusing and touching way, blowing out the torch at the end of that season. [I still tear up a little bit, thinking of that one.] I’ll never forget that one great passing of the torch, when an archer fired a flaming arrow from one host nation to the next; though it’s a foggy, distant memory, that was an extremely inspirational moment for me as an artist who is interested in the history of the Olympics.

[For me, the torch relay is a big thing; as is any recreation of the Olympic rings. It’s like hosting a birthday party. If something goes wrong, it sours my mood for the rest of the event. You could say Celine Dion, returning to singing after a tough fight against a crippling illness, was worth the trip. But, I could not fully appreciate her performance, as emotion-stirring as it was, if those other elements I just mentioned failed to impress me.]

But, the only really memorable bounty of artistry I can recall is the opening ceremony of Beijing 2008. [Those footprints made with fireworks! And, what followed inspired other nations to follow suit.] I don’t remember getting enough culture from the Beijing games. I think I just drifted from the opening to the closing ceremony, hoping to get more of the former in the latter.

I also was rather disappointed with the more recent Tokyo (2020…technically 2021) games and still remain upset with the whole quarantine situation. I will not forgive the fools who started that hot mess. Tokyo saved itself from being a total disappointment by making a very amusing use of pictograms. That segment was nearly perfect and oh so inspirational.

And, Paris…

I’m not your biggest fan; I’m not one of those hopeless romantics who can’t stop talking about the Eiffel Tower, butter and baguettes. The opening ceremony had so many great elements but not the best composition. The metal horse looked so skeletal instead of regal. The passing of the flag was a confusing disappointment. The torch relay, as a whole, could have been better, though the outdoor views of Paris, as the sun set, were sublime. The floating cauldron was great (and gave me ideas for what you may do in the closing ceremony, if you’re clever enough.] Placing the beach volleyball venue in view of the Eiffel Tower…brilliant and such a blessing to all who played there. Unfortunately, timing for the opening ceremony and some of the events has been so poor, with so much rain. [I’d say the (Greek) gods are not pleased in some way.]

But, Paris, you have lit a fire in me at a crucial, tiresome time. When my creativity has been at a sad low, your artistry has stirred the phoenix in my soul. [I’m not sure if the phoenix is a male or female. I typically refer to my muse as female.] And, while the fire is crackling, I’ve been busy with Olympic (and other) art of my own; not as much as you’ve put out, but enough to make me feel like part of the artistic crowd. I saw a commercial, a few weeks ago, and, suddenly, thinking of the Paris Olympics, I was motivated to craft a series of posters with my own “Marianne.” I could hear the French accordion music playing in my head. I could see the streets of Nice lined with patio tables and pigeons.

If I was in Paris, right now, I’d be exploding on the sidewalk (or some cobblestone street). I’d be at risk of being trampled as I leak all over the pavement. I’m not sure what I’d be leaking, but I know art (and beauty) is to blame. ‘Not all the famous faces roaming your facilities. ‘Not the numerous athletes. Well…maybe the prettier ones could be guilty of stalling me. [Perhaps, beautiful women could be considered art, as well.]

[Back in 2008, when I was falling in love with Beijing (not for the first time), I don’t recall working on much artwork, which is strange. I was infatuated but not very creative. Maybe I was so infatuated with some of the women of Beijing that I couldn’t use my hands. It is in those moments when I question my need to be an artist. I occasionally imagine exploding from too many pretty faces (if I ever visited China or Japan). I remember seeing just one really pretty face in Santorini, Greece, hidden behind sunglasses, and, as much as I wanted to capture her in a drawing, I couldn’t muster the strength nor motivation to fetch my sketchbook; it was as if she refused to grant me that freedom. There was one elegantly dressed blonde woman who passed me in Eze, France; I never saw her face but heard the gentle sweetness of her voice (as she casually said, “Bon jour”) and admired her graceful lines, wishing I had the time and tools to craft a portrait…and the opportunity to learn more about her. I can still see her (rear view) sitting on that bench overlooking the sea. Yet, any attempt to recreate that image, now, would fail to capture her true assets. I’ve learned, with time, to appreciate photographs as both references and art.]

[I started working on art for the Tokyo Olympics back in 2016, after the amusing preview in Rio. But, I could not craft as much as I have for the Paris/2024 Olympics. Maybe in some prophetic way I knew the 2020 games would be a disappointment. Or, as with Beijing, perhaps my visions of beautiful Japanese women diminished my ability. But, I still had hopes and created a cool cauldron-lighting sequence that incorporated the red “rising sun” of the Japanese flag and a sort of decal that could have been the token pin/sticker of the season; it featured the silhouette of a woman dressed in a kimono. In one version, she held a torch; in another, a flaming bowl of rice. I recreated it in each of the colors from the Olympic rings.]

As I previously said, there have been rare songs that capture my interest. I remember David Bowie’s “Heroes” being a sort of anthem for one of the winter Olympics; it was the last thing I heard as I watched the end credits during the final broadcast. I remember “Home” by Phillip Phillips dominating a recent summer Olympics, particularly the (always excessive) gymnastics portion. But, I’m not finding that special song in the Paris 2024 games; instead, I’m enjoying the little musical touches, the stroking of the ear by short pieces that transition viewers from event to commercial (when commercials don’t just cut into events, which is annoying). I’m not sure how to feel about the Taylor-Swift accents, suspecting they are subtle injections of sales pitch or subliminal messages for her infamous tour, a way to rally her fan club and increase the Olympics audience (as she supposedly increased the NFL audience). A simple Parisian accordion melody is enough for me. That seemingly simple little piece of music, used during the “late shift” portion of USA broadcasts…is so satisfying (though I wouldn’t call it particularly French). It makes me feel stylish, as if I’m enjoying an evening stroll through your infamous city, gazing upon the light show provided by the Eiffel Tower and other illuminated structures.

I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Far-East lover; I often imagine walking historical paths, among pagodas, temples and those distinctly red bridges and archways, basking in cherry-blossom trees, looking for koi ponds. I dream of exploring the area with a beautiful kimono-clad woman, admiring her long black hair (like Sakura, the mystic/nurse from an old anime called Urusei Yatsura), toting one of those bamboo-and-paper parasols. But, seeing little scenes with Paris street vendors, by day and by night, has been such a delight. It shouldn’t be so impressive, but it is. [And, now, I’m craving croissants.]

I loooove the short animations for the various events, especially the beach volleyball one. I cannot find more words to express how they bring me joy. They just do.

I am intrigued by those argyle-like icons/symbols for each sport/event.

So, thank you, Paris, for your buffet of artistry. Merci beaucoup. You may not top my list for the cities I want to explore. But, you’ve certainly worked your way up to a more favorable slot. Any woman who wants to visit you with me at her side…is welcome to offer the chance. [That includes winter Olympian Lindsey Vonn, Yaroslava Mahuchikh, the Ukrainian high jumper, and Nina Brunner (Betschart), the beach-volleyball player from Switzerland.] I’d appreciate the company. I challenge you to woo me with your chocolates. [I cannot imagine getting excited about butter.] I don’t think Paris is the place to venture alone, unless you hope to get lost. [I’ve already faced the misfortune of getting lost in Nice and did not get any help from the mounted police.]

I don’t think that’s the best way to finish an artistic composition. And, if you agree, maybe you feel how I felt after your opening ceremony.

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**There is one matter I want to address with the Paris 2024 games; I’m not seeing enough of the mascots.

I read somewhere that Marianne would appear all over Paris. I didn’t think that meant just in print; I thought some women would sport the flame-like hairstyle and make appearances in stylish French fashions. I thought it would be like a Where’s-Waldo thing, finding these models as you tour Paris. I appreciate seeing the clever flame-face image in many places…but it could be so much more than just a stamp. In fact, Paris, you could have dazzled the opening ceremony with a Carmen-Sandiego-like woman of mystery, sporting the Marianne hairstyle while running with the torch, instead of that masked “thief.”

I almost jump out of my seat when I finally see someone wearing one of the Phrygian hats. You’d think such a unique and fashionable–though silly and somewhat confusing with faces–concept would motivate more people in attendance (and abroad) to buy up the merchandise. Stuffed animals draw a certain crowd, and I’m okay with a few. But, I’m sort of a hat guy; so, when I see one as the feature symbol of an Olympics season, I’m inclined to pursue it. I want to see others enjoying it (so I don’t feel foolish sporting one). If the majority opinion is that Paris failed with the hat mascots, that’s…sad.

[If Mexico hosted the Olympics, I’d want a special sombrero. If I could have been in Beijing in 2008 or Tokyo in 2020/2021 (for their Olympics), I’d rush to get one of those conical straw hats (with or without the Olympic rings on it somewhere). I always thought Paris was the beret city and didn’t want to wear one, until now.]

[I also look for torches (not pins) I can collect, in whatever size or form they may be available for purchase (but the Paris 2024 torch is not one of them). I was in Athens, after the 2004 Summer Olympics, and disappointed with the availability of merchandise…not to mention the absolute evaporation of everything related to the summer games (not even a trace of confetti, a street sign or a burnt-up firecracker from the closing ceremony). But, maybe that’s okay because the world is already rather cluttered…yet a silver torch or owl (or a hat embroidered with a torch or owl) would have been a great souvenir. Oh! Or, a laurel wreath…but, I suppose, those are reserved for athletes who compete in the games.]

If the Phrygian hat is the same worn by the Smurfs, why haven’t the Smurfs made appearances in Paris, instead of the Minions? The Smurfs were minions before the Minions. [Boom. You just got served. Croissant dropped.]