Why is abstract art terrible?
I recently took a creative writing course. In the first class, one of the assignments was to free write a page of anything that the cover of the book suggested to me. My initial thoughts were as follows:
I hate abstract art. I don’t understand the cover of the book. In the center of the book, is that a fish? It looks like there’s an eye. There could be an eyelash above the eye. Does the fish have a body? This damn thing doesn’t have a tail. It is a walrus? For god’s sake, there’s no right or wrong answer. I could call it a fish. You could call it a walrus. We could both be right unless the artist told us exactly what we’re looking at. I understand art isn’t in black or white, it’s often in shades of grey. But seriously. Why are we analyzing something that could be anything? Look behind the hypothetical fish. Is that a giant tail? Are those waves in the ocean? Or, are those jagged edges a mountain? Behind the mountain, is that a tree? Trees aren’t red. If that is a tree, where are the leaves? In the bottom left corner, are those bushes? Is that a red apple? Is this image about the fish’s dream to fly above the waves, to taste a red apple? Why am I imagining the motivation of a fish, when I don’t even know if my initial guess about the fish is right or wrong? In the top left corner, are those wings? Am I forcing a flying metaphor on a bunch of random crap? Behind the wing, are those clouds? Why is the fish green? Why is the tail blue, orange, and green? Why are the mountains blue? In the bottom left corner, is that black thing an upside down pipe? Was the artist smoking a pipe when he or she drew this thing?
