TheConsortOfSummer

So I've been kicking around Deviant for a couple of weeks now, and have found that I cannot have enough time in the day to really lose myself in the amazing works out there. Sure, I knew people made art. I always thought that art was limited to the galleries and high minded snobs who critique art in nasal, smug and self important tones. "Ah, yers.." they will say, looking at a painting that consist of a blank canvas and one lonely red square in the middle. "This painting represents the abstract notion of authoritarian desire within a void of contemptible silence. The artist has truly broken new ground with this essay on the virtues of patric

I've always been what I like to call an art flirt. You've probably met a few: comic book readers who delight in turning pages and seeing brand new scenes, then promptly forgetting to look at the scene again for six months. The annoying person who can walk in an art gallery and be really taken by the emotions and subtle techniques of a production, and then let it become a distant memory. The person who claims a great visual imagination, but either cannot draw or always says "one day" when it comes to going to get some lessons and figuring it out. Being an art flirt is not the most fulfilling way to live. I suppose it's probably been the fault