Here are some shit photos of the not-so-shit pieces of artwork on the wall of the friend's house in which we are living currently:
To satisfy your curiosity, Cakes. I'm not sure if you can see what I mean. But they really are just not Shit. I wonder if you can see what I mean. Probably because of my Shit Art portraying them, you may not see what I am talking about. Though maybe my photography here is not Shit Art, because as lacking in technical skill as it is, the desire to be truthful is there.
Anyway, that's all I'll say for now about it.
Here are some things Brian Eno said in an old interview in The Wire about art that I love.
The sound of mice and typewriters.... I don't think that it's a lack of passion that disturbs me.... I never felt strongly pro-passion anyway. It's more the sense that the person making the music was not actually fully engaged - fully there - that big parts of their being were never invited to the party... What I want to hear is music that exists for some other reason than that the artist wanted to make a bit more CD earfood. Even the suspicion that someone might have felt something at some point in the process would do...