On art

I like doing art. I like looking at art. I like watching artists do art. I’m interested in what artists think. I’m generally not greatly interested or impressed by writing about art – there have been exceptions, but few and far between and life is too short really.

I like making things. I like thinking while making these things and later when I look at what I’ve made, I can see what I was thinking about. Not sure if anyone else can; hopefully they get something from it (but do I really care?).

Art made about art bores me; but each to their own. I prefer art about life, politics, society, people, dreams, science… and about thoughts, feelings and emotions. I like to see things that I haven’t seen before. A sense of wonder is part of the whole experience.

When I go to a gallery I get a great deal of satisfaction from ‘busy’ art with more than one concept going on – or at least a concept that can be explored a bit. But art is not the same in a gallery as in a home. Some mild-mannered pieces of art sit on a wall for years and they grow upon you gradually until you find them indispensable to your life.

I’m always surprised by other people’s blank walls. Maybe I’m not getting it – could that be the ultimate in art minimalism and indispensable to their lives?