We’ve all been there. Inside a freezing cold museum staring at the paintings, then the ground, then each other, being all, “I think I like it, but this art enthusiast next to me is pooping all over it so, now I’m confused.” Well, I am a lot like you. Lil’ momma loves herself a healthy does of Matisse or Picasso.What she does not love is the feeling that people not-so-educated on the matter get when others that are educated intimidate them. Champagne Problem time!
I am allowed to think something is pretty even if the paint strokes aren’t impressive to you. I am allowed to feel like this statue carved out of marble is really “neat” because I just love the word “neat.” And, I am also allowed to ask a billion questions that might seem dumb to someone that knows more. I am just allowed. Because I believe in myself, duh. I will never stop loving art walks or art festivals because I simply adore knowing what other humans are doing with there brains. Espesh if they are dressing all nice n’ junk like women used too.
Now, the flip side? I don’t know what bad art is. (Groan.) I mean, I could guess what “bad art” is but, in the end, I couldn’t really pinpoint a reasoning. I think that may be where some educated art folk draw the line of dumb dumb-ness. But I am willing to accept that. So for now, I am me and me is art and, art is ours. Right? Right. Ole! #ArtImage via shutterstock; Alice Dison
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