【Modern Art】
A picture speaks
a thousand words, paintings a million more—yet they’re nothing to the blind or
the uninterested. Nothing holds unconditional meaning, terms applicable for
each appreciation or moment of negativity.
I view that geometric red on white with nothing but disdain caught in my throat, apathy held for an art that challenges art. It’s not what it entails, an art—it’s merely a statement, one received as white noise, leading for the vast majority to turn the channel in search of entertainment truly evoking emotion, an experience they desire.
It’s blasphemy—my voice against the market, rejection of modern creation bizarre to those so caught in their own minds. Echo chambers line the path I walk, fitted with hives collecting merely one type of flower, producing distinctly flavoured honeys in obliviousness to all others.
I view that geometric red on white with nothing but disdain caught in my throat, apathy held for an art that challenges art. It’s not what it entails, an art—it’s merely a statement, one received as white noise, leading for the vast majority to turn the channel in search of entertainment truly evoking emotion, an experience they desire.
It’s blasphemy—my voice against the market, rejection of modern creation bizarre to those so caught in their own minds. Echo chambers line the path I walk, fitted with hives collecting merely one type of flower, producing distinctly flavoured honeys in obliviousness to all others.
Comments
Post a Comment