this one a bit tongue-in-cheek. . . another response to a picture prompt
There is a reason art hangs in galleries or museums. Clean lines, unobtrusive backdrops, hushed voices interrupted only occasionally by the cry of a child not yet old enough to appreciate the tangled beauty of a Kandinsky – or perhaps responding more authentically than the adults who instead whisper meaningless phrases: “how interesting” “such an eye for color” “so sophisticated”
Many insist that art – real art – can be found and, in fact, belongs on the streets of New York, Chicago, or LA. A lonely artist with canvas and brush on the corner of Halstead and Jackson imaging he is in Athens. Some are certain that the best art – the future of art - can be found at street fairs. But I contend that all one really finds on the streets are tank tops with chest and arm hair flapping in the wind, loud yelling to friends half a block away, and, most offensive of all, the stench of armpits long overdue for another dose of deodorant.
There is a reason art hangs in galleries or museums. Clean lines, unobtrusive backdrops, hushed voices. . . .