
All paintings at: https://sites.google.com/view/cabinetofvanities
Acrylic on Canvas, 2000, 30×40
Working on such a day / in such a place / seems not work at all / but I am not working / so it’s different for me

All paintings at: https://sites.google.com/view/cabinetofvanities
Acrylic on Canvas, 2000, 30×40
Working on such a day / in such a place / seems not work at all / but I am not working / so it’s different for me

The world of art is filled with nebulous definitions. “Art” itself is an act, an object, a concept and perhaps more. “Professional” artists earn money and are expected to produce highly skilled astounding work, but some artists considered great – like Van Gogh – never sold a painting. And on this continuum cloud is the designation “fine art” .
In the monetary collector’s world, “fine” has become synonymous with “rare” or even “unique”. To a connoisseur, “fine” implies degrees of difficulty and craftsmanship invisible to most of us. The vast crowd of amateurs more or less need to trust museums and scholarly essays to weed the wonderful from the trash. Lately, that seems to be failing .
I’ve pretty much given up. I like to think that what I create as a hobby is on the borderline of “fine art”, but certainly not as fine as a Michelangelo statue. On the other hand Klee and Basquiat are ranked highly and I would not bother having either hanging on my walls. I can’t even experience some forms of fine art very well – food, dance, film, and areas of music. It’s a big bouillabaisse of all kinds of stuff, junk for some, treasure for others .
I guess what I’m getting at is that “fine”, like many other terms (evil, good, right, proper) has lost common meaning in our culture until things stabilize a lot more .

All paintings at: https://sites.google.com/view/cabinetofvanities
Acrylic on Canvasboard, 1970, 16×20
Thinker stilllife
Future posting methodology follows that of the last year:

All paintings at: https://sites.google.com/view/cabinetofvanities
Acrylic on Watercolor Paper, 1998, 18×24
On the float, mayfly humans / dance ephemeral existence / soon tide covers the rock / no more persistent than they

All paintings at: https://sites.google.com/view/cabinetofvanities
Pastel and Ink on collaged pastel paper , 2025, 20×26
Odd placement / Not conventional / Just how I saw / Just how remembered

I contend, contrary to current corporate creed, that there is value in public expenditures and public places. Plazas, parks, churches, and, for the purpose of today’s thought, museums .
A public museum is a marvelous place. Its purpose is always to arrange stories and show versions of reality. Sometimes bones or rocks, sometimes paintings or sculpture, sometimes any oddball mix of anything. Objects usually with a story attached to amaze, mystify, or educate .
There are claims that with the advent of virtual spaces on the internet, museums are obsolete. That may be true in terms of tagging objects. But another function of public places is as a setting for everyone’s street theater, to see and be seen by others. A crowd sharing some momentary focus.
You protest that is also true of things like private parties and such. Sports events. I agree. The bounds are fluid. But by being open to all, a public space provides a wide variety of experience. To get back to the title, I love museums. Old, new, whatever. They make me consider what some other folks considered important. They let me see how contemporary peers react .
Such public interaction is a great binding experience, less frantic and directed than a stadium light show .

All paintings at: https://sites.google.com/view/cabinetofvanities
Acrylic on Canvas, 2002, 30×40
Wild geese with purpose / noisy fly west, / flood tide lies quiet / under the long moon / artist reflects, wistful / scribbles of moments gone.

All paintings at: https://sites.google.com/view/cabinetofvanities
Acrylic on Canvas, 2002, 30×40
All modern Americans shop / I see them gathered in parking lots / like flocks of gulls / so busy being fed

All paintings at: https://sites.google.com/view/cabinetofvanities
Acrylic on Canvas, 2006, 30×40
Two corner me / not One Corner Ma / the original inspirations / continue, unheeding.