I Miss Looking at Art

What do I mean by that? I miss looking at art? I look at it EVERY DAY.

Constantly analyzing.

I constantly wonder if a piece is good. I judge the design on a page and determine if the words match a scene or if they’re in the right place and then I’ll write about it or read about what makes good art and what makes bad art, what makes a good picture book, what makes a bad picture book.

I judge the work of others therefore I judge myself, a constant state of judgmental criticism that means well.

How can this piece be better? What’s missing? What needs to be left out?

Or… this piece has everything lined in place and there are no awkward tensions and the words match and this scene conveys this particular message extraordinarily well and there is emotion detected and each character is diverse enough and this placement is purposeful and this concept could sell well…

I don’t just look at art anymore or just appreciate it for what the it is, and because of this I’m losing my own enjoyment as an art and book lover.

I miss looking at art. I think I should go back to doing that.

 

 

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