I can appreciate art, even some of the more racy and controversial ones like this one I bought from a local French artist that only cost me $2500. I think it's a parody on the gay lifestyle showing them trying to split the check at a restaurant. I can just hear the loud lispy voices proclaiming "I didn't have the sausage, I'm not paying for the sausage, HE had the sausage".
However, despite my real and deeply held attempts to accomodate modernist themes in art, I find more and more that it all containts the same thing:
Vaginas.
Vaginas.
Vaginas. Vaginas. Vaginas.
It's almost like everything anyone does nowadays is about vaginas. They can't get it out of their minds - they are sick, perverted people - putting representations of vaginas everywhere. There's no escape, it's like being taunted by the girls at the next school who wore their skirts unbelievably short and put on lipstick and made cruel comments to the fat kids who needed hormones. I mean, my point is it's not art like people are supposed to draw pictures of - why can't they stick to rolling hills or ravines. Or face shots, videos. Compilation videos, hours of them. Art that makes commercial sense.
However, despite my real and deeply held attempts to accomodate modernist themes in art, I find more and more that it all containts the same thing:
Vaginas.
Vaginas.
Vaginas. Vaginas. Vaginas.
It's almost like everything anyone does nowadays is about vaginas. They can't get it out of their minds - they are sick, perverted people - putting representations of vaginas everywhere. There's no escape, it's like being taunted by the girls at the next school who wore their skirts unbelievably short and put on lipstick and made cruel comments to the fat kids who needed hormones. I mean, my point is it's not art like people are supposed to draw pictures of - why can't they stick to rolling hills or ravines. Or face shots, videos. Compilation videos, hours of them. Art that makes commercial sense.
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