An artist acquaintance was showing a group of other friends and me his latest adventure in painting; traditionally he used photography as his medium of choice, but you can't blame a guy for wanting to branch out -- at least that was my feeling before I saw his painting. Color me old fashioned, but I just don't find a solid blue canvas particularly artistic -- especially one entitled Blue Canvas. It is the first in a series of colored squares meant to express the basic elements of emotion -- or so I'm told. They look like overgrown paint samples to me, but I'm not an emotional kind of guy. I lied and told him I found his work brilliant and truly worthy of adoration for it is pleasing to both the eye and the soul.
Later that night, craving some real art, I opened an old book containing works by the masters: Degas, Monet, Picasso and so forth. Upon closer examination of these supposed geniuses, I realized I didn't like a lot of their work either. They say life imitates art and vice-versa so I wonder, is life like a Monet painting -- all jumbled up close but beautiful from a distance? Or is it more like a Picasso -- weird and full of nonsense? Is life, as with art, what we see in it?
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