struggling angainst the constrant Photograph

i am sick i am twisted i am outside looking in i am inside staring out i am longing i am belonging i am quiet i am loud i am clarity i am confusion i am New York critic Harold Rosenberg commenting on Avant Garde Art culture suggested that from the mid-1960s onward progressive culture ceased to fulfill its former adversarial role. Since then it has been flanked by what he called "avant-garde ghosts" to the one side, and a changing mass culture on the other, both of which it interacts with to varying degrees. This has seen culture become, in his words, "a profession one of whose aspects is the pretense of overthrowing it." the knack art wars "no i don't give a shit about warhol and oldenberg's really gone soft in the brain now dali just wants to be cornholed with one of those crutches he sold to man ray yes calder was hung up on mobiles and rauchenberg gives a particular pain now art's just another distraction like tv commercials that won't go away bourgeois what's the deal don't want no dada no don't try to hand me no fantasy it's for surreal when your taste is confined to their palates and their pictures are easily framed on your walls did you ever consider the malice aforethought contained in that trivial parcel of art van gogh does a flip in his casket rafaels and da vincis are moved down the hall to make way for neimans and no ones like rock and roll portraiture by guy pellaert tell me what good is color on canvas just who will it feed tell me who will it save and do they expect us to stand this barrage of collage and potage and potage st. germaine the people who work for a living don't need to ask questions from cradle to grave they don't need di carlo to tell them what's good and what's bad and what's really insane" please take some time to learn about things wich interest you we have added links to a lot of pics to help you understand the subject or to better understand the concepts inspiration so slow down in life for a minute . . . . . explore I become a transparent eyeball by Ralf Waldo Emerson from nature: crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, i have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. i am glad to the brink of fear. in the woods, too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life is always a child.