“Without art, the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable.”
– George Bernard Shaw
On close inspection undepicted in the pictures, passers-by have scribbled crass comments below the masterpieces. Which I could not understand. Which drove me senseless. An approval of ribaldry? Or a subversion of the fact ordinary humans cannot accept the salacious or risqué unless relegated to the artistic, stripped of life and existence. Is crudeness of reality really unbearable? Or have we been using art as a means of informally embracing the uncouth, while self-righteously, audaciously hating on all that is deemed offensive and lewd, just so we could appear respectable.
If art is where we truly become ourselves, then is it not reality?
So with all due respect to George Bernard Shaw, the crudeness of art makes the world bearable.
As seen in a beautiful park in Frankfurt Germany. A lovely place, otherwise graffiti-ed to no end. But still lovely.
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