My mum always respects art that has taken a lot of time to create and that takes skill and practice to make.
The last time we walked around the Walker Art Gallery she made many comments on the paintings she liked that the artist must have spent a significant amount of time on the piece.
In a lot of ways I feel the same way she does, I like work to be aesthetically pleasing or to make me feel something, something I often can't explain.
Perhaps I like the familiar, maybe I'm stuck in the past, I can try to understand a lot of work, but that doesn't mean I'll have an amazing attachment to it like many images I love that some people may only see as being a pretty piece lacking in meaning.
I like what I like I suppose. I'll probably grow out of it. I can already feel it happening.
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