Paintings

One fine sunny day, a mall held an art exhibit.. It was situated in a part of the mall where people are bound to see it even if they're just passing by. The art pieces, being colorful as they are, caught the attention of some people, myself included. I looked up at the paintings and took good long gazes at each piece that I found interesting, looking at the coloring styles, brush strokes, and attention to detail. I even went as far as to think of probable symbolic meanings or messages those works might have conveyed.

It would've been nice if everyone else did the same but that's not the case at all. I was the only one who did what a person is expected to do at an exhibit. The others posed in front or beside the works of art and took pictures, which I assume they'll post in their Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, just so they can mindlessly post something along the lines of "Look! There is a painting beside me! I'm an art buff". Somehow, I think social media thrives on this form of pretense.

I can't help but feel insulted. As food is made to be eaten and music is made to be listened to, art is made to be enjoyed by the eyes, to be looked at and be beheld in wonder and awe. Those pricks probably think that what they're doing is some shortcut to art appreciation... but no such shortcut exists.

I wonder what the artists would feel if they knew that their art is being misused as a conduit for human stupidity, being what degrades culture instead of enriching it. Their artworks are defiled by the mere gazes of those mongrels and the flashes of their phones.

I think I was born in the wrong universe.