The 9^th Annual Clayton Art & Wine festival has come and gone. There were two very unique points about this year’s festival; I was actually able to attend and it did not rain.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s Art and Rain. I don’t like soggy art. Wine and Rain I can handle, though I really prefer Beer and Rain if you want to split hairs.  And why is it that you never see “Beer and Art” festivals? As a beer drinker, I’m offended. What—can I not appreciate fine art?  Well I might be able to…if I knew what it was.

Every festival involving “art” puts me into a state of confusion. I’ve discovered that, try as I might, I just don’t understand art. I’m not even sure what “art” is.  What is it about—and pick the object of your choice—a painting, a nude woman made of wrought iron, a life-size likeness of Dan Ashley fashioned from rabbit droppings—that constitutes something as art? Why is it that some things are considered works of art while others are works of crap?  Can we get a judge's ruling here?

 If I were to take a handful of rocks, paint them and glue them together, basically I’d have something that resembled painted rocks being held together with glue. However if there were a person out there (and somewhere there is) who was loony enough to pay me for my “Rocks Reclining with Pigment and Adhesive” sculpture, suddenly it is deemed “art”.  It’s still the same pile of rocks I found in my backyard, a paint-by-numbers kit and epoxy (recommended by 4 out of 5 artists surveyed. The 5^th recommended duct tape) but once money changes hands and that item resides on a shelf in someone’s home or on an office desk, it has been transformed into…a work of art!

I really do think it’s THAT simple.  If someone is willing to pay for it, it’s art. If no one is willing to pay for it, it’s crap. Say it with me. Money—Art.  No money—Crap.

Here’s another little observation, and I’m sure I’m not alone in having observed it. Why is it that wine or beer or some other spirit always accompanies an art festival? I’ll tell you why, because the more booze you consume the more of an art connoisseur you become. These festival promoters are not stupid. They know that after John and Jane Public down a couple of pints or a carafe of some local hooch, “Pebbles at Play” is suddenly going to look a whole lot more appealing.

“Look Jane! This unique and exquisite piece of art will look perfect in our breakfast nook!”

“Why you’re right John! Can you believe that just an hour ago we were laughing about who would actually buy such a piece of crap? Boy, are we lucky it hasn’t been snapped up already! Another shot of this intoxicating beverage dear?”

Well hopefully you took advantage of your opportunity to work the magic of transforming someone’s backyard hobby into a commodity worth untold riches. Be sure to attend next year’s festival where I’ll be selling my coveted still life’s made from the pure crust of Mother Earth. That and any other crap I don’t unload at our next garage sale.