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Art
- Thread starter Big/Sky/Fly
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
Art?
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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370hssv vw6!s tu36v
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Big/Sky/Fly
370hssv vw6!s tu36v
I think I posted this before maybe but it's been hanging on my wall for years and is an absolute love of mine.
To the glory of humanity and all the good and great things, we can experience.
Maxfield Parrish - Ecstacy
![51s4Np405gL._AC_[1].jpg](https://www.patriotsplanet.net/BB/data/attachments/1/1516-d1819850ce81304495f5ff86b2a5905f.jpg "51s4Np405gL._AC_[1].jpg")
To the glory of humanity and all the good and great things, we can experience.
Maxfield Parrish - Ecstacy
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Hawg73
Mediocre with flashes of brilliance
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Every kid loves to draw or paint etc.,
Maybe not every kid, but the vast majority. They love trying to put the world they see on paper so it can end up on a refrigerator or wherever. Kids tend to be in touch with the creative process because their minds are open. It makes them feel great when somebody tells them how great their artwork is. Then, somewhere down the road, somebody comes along and points at what they've done and laughs at it and the kid doesn't want to do art anymore. It continues on like that throughout their life because somebody made them feel bad about themselves and it is the rare individual who doesn't care what anybody thinks and listens to their own inner voice as they go down the path of their life.
I was sort of in-between and didn't hit the self-conscious wall until I was in my early 20's. I made an attempt at going to Mass College of Art night school when I was working days for the phone company in Boston and have seldom felt more out of place than that hellhole. Most of the students there were full-timers who tended to dress in black and act depressed all the time and every time I opened my mouth it was "one of these things is not like the other". One wannabe punk snickered derisively at something I said and his sad group of friends did the same. I got in his face when class was over and the guy was shocked that I would call him out like that. Stunned. I'd never been around people like him and the rest. I had zero formal training and struggled to keep up, but it was the strangled silence of the place that drove me away and very little that I learned stuck. It sucked the life out of my desire to do any art for a long time because I temporarily forgot to give a shit about what anybody else thinks.
Anyway, my point is that a paper plate with macaroni glued onto it sprayed gold is art to a parent. Dogs playing poker is art. M.C. Escher black light posters are as well.
The moral of this post is to never listen to the people dressed in black looking to laugh at somebody so they temporarily feel better about their own sad existence. Art is what you and you alone like to see or appreciate and don't let anybody tell you any different.
Maybe not every kid, but the vast majority. They love trying to put the world they see on paper so it can end up on a refrigerator or wherever. Kids tend to be in touch with the creative process because their minds are open. It makes them feel great when somebody tells them how great their artwork is. Then, somewhere down the road, somebody comes along and points at what they've done and laughs at it and the kid doesn't want to do art anymore. It continues on like that throughout their life because somebody made them feel bad about themselves and it is the rare individual who doesn't care what anybody thinks and listens to their own inner voice as they go down the path of their life.
I was sort of in-between and didn't hit the self-conscious wall until I was in my early 20's. I made an attempt at going to Mass College of Art night school when I was working days for the phone company in Boston and have seldom felt more out of place than that hellhole. Most of the students there were full-timers who tended to dress in black and act depressed all the time and every time I opened my mouth it was "one of these things is not like the other". One wannabe punk snickered derisively at something I said and his sad group of friends did the same. I got in his face when class was over and the guy was shocked that I would call him out like that. Stunned. I'd never been around people like him and the rest. I had zero formal training and struggled to keep up, but it was the strangled silence of the place that drove me away and very little that I learned stuck. It sucked the life out of my desire to do any art for a long time because I temporarily forgot to give a shit about what anybody else thinks.
Anyway, my point is that a paper plate with macaroni glued onto it sprayed gold is art to a parent. Dogs playing poker is art. M.C. Escher black light posters are as well.
The moral of this post is to never listen to the people dressed in black looking to laugh at somebody so they temporarily feel better about their own sad existence. Art is what you and you alone like to see or appreciate and don't let anybody tell you any different.