Introduction Think of the topography of your city. You have your restaurants, business buildings, apartment complexes- hills, valleys, rivers and beaches- all surrounded by copious amounts of sidewalks or city streets. There is very little space that is untouched by mankind in your city. Even the somewhat open spaces are filled with advertisements for the latest Hollywood production or a poster of that thing that you did not know that you always wanted.
You are walking to work, like every other day. You pick up the newspaper and a coffee, and you recall how much you really do hate Mondays. Then you notice that on the corner where a normally comfortable, quaint looking café resides, someone has their illegibly sprawled name or a big green “Fuck Off” across the front windows. Beside it is a distinct A for Anarchy symbol. The owner of the quaint café is outside muttering uncertainties to himself while he hopelessly scrubs and chips away at the writing.
Is this art?
Introduction
Think of the topography of your city. You have your restaurants, business buildings, apartment complexes- hills, valleys, rivers and beaches- all surrounded by copious amounts of sidewalks or city streets. There is very little space that is untouched by mankind in your city. Even the somewhat open spaces are filled with advertisements for the latest Hollywood production or a poster of that thing that you did not know that you always wanted.
You are walking to work, like every other day. You pick up the newspaper and a coffee, and you recall how much you really do hate Mondays. Then you notice that on the corner where a normally comfortable, quaint looking café resides, someone has their illegibly sprawled name or a big green “Fuck Off” across the front windows. Beside it is a distinct A for Anarchy symbol. The owner of the quaint café is outside muttering uncertainties to himself while he hopelessly scrubs and chips away at the writing.
Is this art?