If you've ever looked at your dog and thought, wow, your life is great, what I would give for my life to be that easy. Well, I believe we can learn from dogs, and I'm writing a blog, with my dog Daisy, to teach people how to make life that easy.
Actually I started this blog to sell my e-books Jackpot and The Band, but that has now turned into a side gig.
Post for post Daisy and I are tackling life's challenges and world problems.
This is Discussions With My Dog.
This post is going to a bit of a rant 💥. Have you noticed the Modern Art is an anagram of Total Crap? (after about 5 seconds you’ll work out it isn’t, but you get my drift). Not all modern art is Total Crap, for example last summer I spent an hour at the Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden in St Ives. It’s well worth a visit. The garden is treasure trove of tranquillity and the statues are quite interesting .
To appreciate modern art you need to have artistic vision. To be honest I don’t understand how two lumps of stone portray “The eternal passion of the Duke of Wimsey and Lady Hyacinth- Nymphamania”. Confession – no such piece exists but if an art collector wants to throw a couple of thousand pounds my way, Daisy and I will soon knock one up.
I showed Daisy a picture of a pile of concrete blocks. I asked her if it was art? She instantly recognised this as a multi-functional dog urinal. The lower blocks are for small dogs such as terriers to cock their leg against, the next layer is for spaniels sized dogs working up to large breeds at the top. Daisy clearly has artistic vision 😏.
Having discovered the Barbara Hepworth Museum, I thought I was now ready for the big one, the Tate Modern in London. The Tate is an imposing brick building that is reminiscent of a Cold War communist prison camp. Entry is free. You are asked for a voluntary donation on the way in, which is clever planning since there is no way I’d have paid up on the way out.
The exhibits range from the pointless to the dour to the manic depressive. Pointless includes works such as massive canvases with a line or a squiggle. Nobody has a clue what these are, they were probably created by hippies in the 1960’s who were high as a kite . The dour range is similar to the pointless. The artist has attempted to draw or paint something which leaves you with the distinct impression of “why did you bother”. The depressive include collections of grainy black and white photographs of things that really should never have been photographed.
The Tate Modern does not welcome dogs, and dogs don’t realise how lucky they are. (It’s possibly because dogs would succumb to an irresistible urge to piss on the exhibits, which to them look like a tree stump or a wall. I did ask Daisy what she thought of the Tate Modern. Having listened to my rant she devised the perfect solution. The British prison system is stretched to capacity, we have more prisoners than we know what to do with. Why not send offenders to day release sessions at the Tate. After a few days in there Daisy thinks the re-offending rate would be very low.
Alastair and Daisy
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