I was sitting here just now, staring idly at the computer screen when a thought came upon me. "Maybe," I thought to myself, "just maybe, rather than sitting here staring idly at the computer screen, I could write something for my poor, lonely little blog."
So here I am.
I had my first final of the week this morning. It was for art history and was actually a lot of fun (and also very easy.) I'm sorry that class was over. Even getting into postmodern art, as we did in the last week, the class was fascinating. (Although, I think the Matthew Barney video was a little much-I may be scarred for life. But then, he is married to Bjork, after all. I should have been prepared for something unspeakably bizarre.)
I will say, postmodern art is much more interesting than modern. I've never been able to make myself like much of anything painted after WWI, and I spent the last few weeks of class wishing I could strangle Marcel Duchamp. Not that I don't appreciate modern art. I understand what the artists were trying to do and, in most cases, I respect their skills, but I just can't bring myself to enjoy it. I'm the sort of shallow person who prefers the Pre-Raphaelites.