Art inspires me. It doesn't seem to try to, or even need to I suppose.
Is art created to fulfil that purpose?
We build up an idea of beauty by what we're told is beautiful, by what we're told to like.
People congregate around the Monet and Pollock.
Jackson Pollock isn't particularly good but he's famous.
There's a beautiful Joan Mitchell painting next to the Pollock but nobody knows who she is.
I'm being far too satirical now.
People want to see that you've spent time on their three and a half minutes of attention.
Colour and scale and the reassurance of something recognisable.
People draw but prefer to write.
At least people are looking at the Twombly - but blood red on a 20ft canvas is pretty pretty. Yeah?
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