What is art?
Ah, but what isn’t art, my friend. “Truth is beauty” and what were, no? Yes… This, this…thing, this “art”—it is its coyness what makes it, yes? One might as well ask, “What is love?”
What is art, what is love, what is romance, what is ‘eart… These questions—so many questions—yet none not lame.
Who is to say? Like the saying go, what one is trash, one might be gold. The beautiful aren’t always beautiful, I think, no?