But.... I thought....

I thought you all might enjoy an excerpt of Liz and my craziness last night.... This happens to be the end of an aborted attempt at writing my art history essay. The beginning part is mine, and the funny parts are Liz's. Read, and enjoy.

And please, refrain from calling the men in white coats. The padded wagon is coming for us already, and they get rather ticked off if people keep calling about the same nutcases. Especially on Mondays.

Quality - I think for art (modern art in particular) quality depends a great deal on the artist. That is, it depends whether the artist has technical skill or not. In my opinion, an artist must first display technical skill in the traditional art forms, before he can be allowed to experiment with abstract and/or modern forms. Because it would be freaking crazy if he simply became a modern artist because he had no skill or talent in other areas, but was clever. He must first display technical merit as well as strong conceptualization skills. I definitely think there is such a thing as quality in art. None of that crap about everything being good if you just sort of like it. People like bad art. So what. It’s still bad art. I don’t feel qualified to say what is good art and what is bad art. I do, however, know that there are such things, and that’s why I’m in college - to learn what is good art and to learn what is bad art and why they are what they are.

Here is a case study. Once upon a time. In a land far far away.... called [cough cough] Alabama, there lived a young woman, a beautiful [cough cough] princess [cough cough] named [cough cough hack] Mackenzie. [eww hairball] She lived with the good king and queen her parents. Her mother was a hamster, and her father smelled of elderberry, but that did not stop her from liking art. It merely gave her several social complexes.

But anyway. About the art. And your mom. Your mom likes bad art. So did Princess Mackenzie, incidentally. Princess Mackenzie liked all art, as she loved all people. Back to the social complexes we go. But moving on. Mackenzie grew up and learned to hate bad art and bad people because she went to school, and was taught by Greg’s sister. She was a wonderful teacher and a devoted nun-ish-person. Amen. Preach it sister.

Princess Mackenzie went back to Alabama, married a beautiful Alabamania prince named Frankie, and made good art and babies. Amen.

The End of the Case Study. It is very scientific. Amen. So be it, our sister who art in Gregory. Amen.