Recently I became involved in an on line discussion about art. I am sure that the person I am/was chatting with have different concepts of what constitutes art.
To me it is a drive emanating from inside the human spirit. It demands the attention of other human spirits. It does not require a degree in art appreciation. A piece of real art stops you in you tracks. It makes you question whether or not you've been human enough. My literary character heroes are Don Quixote and Sam Gamgee. Whenever I see "The Persistence of Time" I'm torn between laughing and crying at the truth of it. MLKs "Dream" speech angers me because of what it tells me what we aren't. The cave paintings of France remind us all of the need to leave footprints.The Temples at Karnak remind us of how puny we are. The writings of Vonnegut make me think of what a ridiculous species we are. Art isn't in the eye of the beholder. It's in his soul.
