Graffiti

There are those who view graffiti as art. I am not among them. At the moment I am in France and every wall and bridge abutment is adorned in this blight. Last year I was in Italy and it appears the same “artist” made his way there as well, especially in Rome. Only In Moscow was the graffiti at a minimum; a coincidence, I think not

Graffiti is to art what Rap is to music. That is to say an insult. Neither is comprensible and both have to be loud and abrasive to make a point, assuming there is one. And both appeal to an audience that finds it easier to wing it in lieu of serious contemplation.

My grandchildren are equally talented when they draw on my driveway except they have the good sense to use chalk that washes away rather than spray paint.

Perhaps it is a challenge to hang from a precarious pearch in the quest of “art” or merely the thrill of not getting caught, but in the final analysis it is an eyesore on personal or public property not unlike a windfarm or a few hundred acres of solar panels-but I digress.

 

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