the art of things
a few minutes ago, i was looking at an online photography gallery. while the images were well-shot, well-framed, and clean-lined, i couldn't find the story within them. i looked through the entire gallery, and not once did i connect with an image. this makes me think of writing and the perfection of form. a piece can be nearly perfect in terms of its structural and grammatical composition, and still, the story might be missing--perhaps the artist is in hiding from the truth of the art. artistic truth is not so tidy and linear.