When I say I love original art, I mean I love a little paint smeared on a canvas--nothing of particular value, mind you, but the idea of an idea…the representation of something worth remembering.
I would be afraid to invite a bonafide artist to any abode I call home because the art therein begs for explanation.
As I said to one, “Well, I found this painting behind a dumpster...”
She looked at me quic…
