Tossed colors- an apologia
I refuse to feel guilty
for pausing before the canvas,
looking at splashes of color and plaster
tilting my head right, then left
and squinting, closing one eye.
Stepping back, shrugging,
looking at splashes of color and plaster
wondering what's wrong with my eyes.
I see no point.
I see no splatters of emotion-
looking at splashes of color and plaster.
Unmemorable chaos, utterly forgettable-
And I refuse to feel guilty.

A/N I'm taking an art class and it ended up stressing modern art. I'm sick
of people patronizing and insisting it is a default of character to not
like modern/abstractionist art. Just because I don't 'get it' doesn't mean
I'm ignorant or that I don't like art. So this was written in class when
they starting going off on how you should train yourself to like it and
feel guilty if you don't.. (De gustibus and all that..)