the random colors of water

I like art like my grandfather likes art. We like art even if we don't know much about it.
Today, we went on an adventure (as my grandfather called it) and explored the movement and the vibrant colors of the impressionists. My grandfather doesn't like the impressionists, or the cubists, and (DEFINITELY) dislikes WARHOL (and, all types of pop art).

He went with the idea that brush strokes on canvas NEED TO MAKE SENSE or, they're not ART. Apparently, portraiture and classical landscapes are the only types of painting that fall into "real art." With these types, the spectator (Barthes uses this term and I might be misusing it here) sees the reality of the subject. According to my grandfather, this is what "real art" does. "Real art" reveals the truth of the subject by revealing its truth. Based on this definition, we find art's truth in the reality of its subject.

We looked at Monet's landscapes--japanese bridges, weeping willows, water lilies, etc.
I looked at the broken brush strokes, and followed their movement. They spoke to me in rhythm and emotion.

Oh, they read like poetry:

See how the grass blows in
the breeze. See how there's nothing for
miles but endless
fields of dismantled color,
restless strokes
and purple poppies.

Art feels like this. If art can feel like anything, It's truth comes out in feeling. Barthes would say that it "pricks" before it educates. But, art educates too. It teaches us. It says, "HERE, you see this? This is what it means to feel, to be free, and to be human." "Oh," you say "I didn't know that truth could be this painful." And, then you realize that this is its truth--PAIN.

Art captures life. It tames life into segments divided by color, shapes, movement, etc. But, life doesn't stay tame for long. Then art starts asking questions. In Monet's case, "WHAT IS THE COLOR OF WATER?" I don't think he ever gives us a straight answer.

Monet frustrates my grandfather and enlivens me. I guess this is the difference between generations. When he owned his own drugstore, he used to sell coffee for 5 cents. Now, when I visit a coffee shop, I spend 3.00 on coffee. My grandfather would never do this. It frustrates him.