Art is invisible, art is a myth. Art is a rumor. Art is untouchable. But for the art sale, art barn, art walk, art market, flea market art, bargain basement art, cheap art, art for free. We’ll pay you to take this art. Art today only, art on Sunday, drive down Canyon road and see some art, art in a retail outlet, art is a hobby, or it’s a reason to believe unless it’s not, art store.

You really don’t know what art looks, or sounds, or feels like until you see it, hear it, touch it. Water colors, finger paints, art on the wall, art on a turntable, art like a silk tie with the painting of a bird or a naked lady on it. Art is a pretty girl, art is a car, art is a quilt, art is a waste of time, though it takes time to make art.

Art is everything to someone and nothing to some others. That’s not art. Art is jealousy, and art is big business. You call that art? The art went sailing over their heads. Art is a scrawling on a rock wall in the dark of a cave. Bring a flashlight. Art is a reason for doing it at all. You can never tell who might think this is art. Art on a back street, art on the side of a building, art on the Santa Monica pier, art in a foyer, the old gas station is a piece of art, the Brooklyn bridge is art.

The arrangement of flowers is an art on an easel. Or you can tour the Louvre in a quest for art. Many arts. Art for art’s sake, art is in the eye of the beholder. Art reaches out, art strives to, the art means something, art hangs on the wall, art stays in the background, art is upfront and personal, art is an insult, art presupposes, art considers itself the end all, beat all.

Art goes to the heart of the matter, art goes to the art of the affair, not everyone can do art, or sit up close to the blackboard, not everyone cares if it is art. Art is the expression of a lower life form. Art on a subway embankment, graffiti on a train, art like a landfill, art where you least expect it, art because you can. The art of tomorrow is trash today, trash today is art tomorrow. Garbage in garbage out.

Someone’s art is someone’s throwaway. Is there a measure of art? How do you know when you’ve had too much art? Can you get enough art? Can you sell enough art to pay the rent? Is art the only way, is art the place, is art a place? Is art for you? Do you like art? Is art a secret only they know? Would you tell me if it was art? Would you know if it was art? Can you bear to just look at art without copping a feel? You are art. Yer a babe, I just happen to have a background in art. I just wanna touch you like I just wanna touch the Mona Lisa. But I’ll tell you truly, I only like the Mona Lisa because she smiles at me.

But art is for others, though some is for us. Art for the masses, art for the individual, art for the army, art for the navy, art for the arty. Art wouldn’t matter except for the crap that people pass off for art. But who really knows art? Who would you you buy art from? Is art the same for everyone?

Are all Van Goghs painted equal? Are all Van Goghs as famous as all Van Goghs? When was the last time you saw a Van Gogh? Art for art’s sake, art for my sake, art for all of us. Art that makes a point, art that leaves the point over in the corner. Art for no damn good reason. Art for all the right reasons. Art doesn’t matter, except where there is no art. The art was lost. The art was found in an attic in Beaumont, at the bottom of the sea, in your closet, or in your minds eye.

In your eye my ass, write it down, paint it, make it look like something it’s not, make it look better than it is, don’t change a thing, enjoy it for what it is, if it ain’t broke… Let someone else decide if it’s art, I mean, what do you know? What can be said about art? What needs to be said about art? The art was right, the art was all wrong, but don’t cry over it, because there will be more art tomorrow coming from places you would never suspect, from places you don’t know exist anymore than they know you and your art…exist.

A ball of yarn, a ball of art, a ball of thoughts all tied up with an arty little bow. Cartoons are art, pen and inks are art, oils are art, cars are art, guitars are art, tools are art, severing tools that go down drilling pipes are art. In other words, if it’s not an art it’s probably a protein.

And lest I forget, women are, perhaps, the highest art, oh yeah. The way the wind blows can be art, the way someone breathes can be art, the sky is art everyday when the sun comes up, or goes down in the evening. Waves are art, the child is art, the mother is art, the good fellow is art, the smell is art, the color is art, the way you move is art, the sound is art, a smile is art, the frown is art, but who’s to notice?

The boat is art, the landscape is art, Paris is art, Oslo is art, pizza is art, when in Oslo have the pizza. Museums are full of art, schools teach art, big business supports art of some kind. Everybody wants to be an artist, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em when everybody is an artist anyway. If the good lord wanted you to be an artist he’d a growed one on yer thumb. The musical set you play is art. There is no standard of art, there is no monopoly of art, there is no quality of art, there is no field guide to art, there is no map of art, there is no one place where art is from.

The way you do business can be art. The way you tell off that accelerator pedal with a pencil dick can be art. The way you work alongside others can be art because they are such assholes. Insects are art, spiders are art, breakfast is art, dinner is art, grandma is art the way she can make a pecan pie from nothing but flour, baking soda, and lard, you are art. When I grow up I’m gonna be a artist, and inspire others to be as arty as me.

When we speak the words come out like a painting. Silly art, art is art, industrial art, sanitized art, art for the masses, art for a political party, art for the party on Saturday night. But just because I say so, does that make it art? What about anybody else? So if everyone is an artist in their own right, why are there reviewers to read to tell you what art is? Are you just lazy, or arty.

Art can’t, art won’t, art ain’t, art is. Do some art, some do art, display your art, stand up for your art, reach for the art, go out of your way for the art, pay for the art. Pay the artist, get him off your back. Recognize the art, recognize the poor fool that did the art. Give your friends art for a special occaision. Art is an enrichment. Art is an opinion, and an opinion can’t be wrong. But, and this is a big one, deny there is any art to it and somebody will beg to differ just to show how clever they are, and how wrong you can be. That’s art.

2 thoughts on “THAT’S ART”

  1. Life is Art – your life is your body of work, both literally and figuratively. Inspiration is everywhere. Open yourself to it. Breathe it in. Write it down. Sing it. Play it. Enjoy it! It is truly food for the soul. And then again, Food is Art, a rather exquisite expression of it. Savor every morsel. Don’t rush. Smell it. Feel it. Touch it. Texture is Art. Language is Art, in all its clever derivations. Art is limitless: “I am vast, I contain multitudes” – Walt Whitman –

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