Monday, April 14, 2008

If You Don't Like It, Wait Fifteen Minutes and It'll Change

Yesterday it was 26 degrees Celsius outside. For those Americans who read this blog, that's "no jacket needed, I should be wearing shorts and sandals" weather.

Today it is snowing.

This city kills me. Or, more accurately, with my sinuses, it makes me wish I was dead.



When it turned out the artist did not, in fact, tie a wild dog up in an art gallery and let it starve to death as a conceptual piece, I decided my post on why--even though the notion is vile and in any civilized world would also be criminal--any response other than actively ignoring the artist would only encourage the prick, could wait. So you've all been spared my rambling on about Art, its purpose, and relative merits of a given piece, for which you should all be thankful.

Given that the artist apparently did ensure that the animal was properly fed and cared for while in the gallery, I'd say this was actually a very effective piece of Art. Personally, if the animal wasn't completely feral, I'd have tried to adopt it or arrange for its adoption rather than releasing it back onto the streets where it was found, but still--an ugly but arguably important point was made, made well, and made to an awful lot of people that probably wouldn't give Art of the point it was making a second thought under normal circumstances. That's more than most Art accomplishes.

I'm not proud to admit it, but it's borderline miraculous I didn't kill _something_ in the name of My Art during my art college years.* There are few types in this world as arrogant as the Art Student, and fewer still as arrogant as Andrew the Art Student. Those were the days.

*Found art materials I used, or saw others use: a cat that had a tired tread where its stomach used to be, a gopher that had had its insides ripped out by a predator of some sort, cow brains, and a wide variety of food that had once been pigs or cows. Which, to my mind, does beg the question of which is more offensive: a jar of rotting cow brains, or a jar of rotting hamburger patties...


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