Sweating the Small Stuff?
There were people yelling on our local TV about the Arts last night.
I went off to make more photos and communicate with the nice people who have
just Schmapped me.
Life is short.
Artists are well provided for in contemporary society.
Where are "The Arts" going, many of them ask?
Frankly, not only do I not give a damn,
the whole idea of bureaucracy and public funding
directing artistic expression seem so odd to me
that it's best not to think about it in the first place.
Lets just keep making "ART"...
I went off to make more photos and communicate with the nice people who have
just Schmapped me.
Life is short.
Artists are well provided for in contemporary society.
Where are "The Arts" going, many of them ask?
Frankly, not only do I not give a damn,
the whole idea of bureaucracy and public funding
directing artistic expression seem so odd to me
that it's best not to think about it in the first place.
Lets just keep making "ART"...
posted by Tales from the Birch Wood. at
11:34
2 Comments:
I recall my daughter's reaction to a particularly tedious abstract sculpt parked at the entrance to one of our local towns. Her term of derision was "civic sculpture". I think that bureaucracies should stick to heroic bronzes and leave art up to artists. But, hey, that's just me.
Ahh, "art." Bleh. Can't stand it, myself. ;)
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