22 October 2020

Call me decadent, call me anything, but call me.


When I see photos like these I am reminded why the Art community has moved towards more political content. And it should. These photos are extraordinary and they speak to us immediately, like blades through our hearts.

We as Americans are shocked at the unrest and violence in the streets. Yet it shouldn't be. It is quite natural for America, a culture so inherently flawed and  unequal should implode like so many other warring nations before us. 

The Art which flows out of such a country must be very political because it speaks to socio-economic ills. Somehow the rage always finds its way out into the streets.  It is unstoppable, and it is perfectly reasonable. 

And just as pavers from the streets of Paris were used  in the violent clashes of May 1968,  the smart phone, in hand, has now replaced them. It is the universal tool de rigeur of this brave new media-obsessed world.

Change will come, as it always does, can we handle it? 

Meanwhile, here on a beach in Australia, I find meaning for myself most nights. It is an art form of another kind.
Call me decadent, call me anything, but call me.

Evening Prayer Brunswick Heads, 17 October, 2020, oil on canvas board, 30 X 25 cm 

No comments:

Post a Comment