a little poem I wrote. I was inspired by a photo I took. To me it's the perfect metaphor for art.
Behind my face, below my hair, between my ears and just above my throat
There is a factory. But it is upside down.
It’s working fine though. It is big and busy.
All the machines inside are powerful, precise, robust, fast and efficient.
The stuff is skilled, well organized and working day and night.
Its products are the finest on the market.
But there is one flaw: Since the factory is standing on its head
The products it produces are also upside down.
Hence they are useless.
Therefore no one needs or wants them.
And therefore they are labeled “ART”