In Grey

People seem to want black and white. Pure and concrete. (Or, pure concrete?) I am more than content--I'm happy actually--with my quilt of myriad greys...of white and black and pearl and slate. I value the whimsical momentary opinion or a fleeting reaction, particularly in the immediate hours after experiencing an exhibit, concert or performance. I can wrap up in a mess of contradictory thoughts, or throw them aside, for a few days or months or a year, knowing that eventually the ideas sift and separate and settle into more solidly formed--more black and white--aesthetic principles. This occurs over time. Instant judgments and the nervous desire to make grandiose statements about how all the world should perceive or appreciate a given art are often dangerously dismissive. I would even go so far as to say that the quick judgment is nothing more than a filtered version of one's preconceptions rather than an honest evaluation of the real time interaction with the work.

So there.