The printer I use at home doesn't print in color. So I'm printing the works of art that I need to study for my art history quiz without color, and making flashcards out of them. I'm doing this so I can memorize the names, artists, periods, dates, and countries of origins of said works and so be successful on my quiz next week. As I was looking at my freshly printed page of black and white pieces of artwork, the thought occurred to me that I hope this is not what art becomes to me-black and white-names, artists, periods, dates, and countries of origins. Colorless. Either knowing a piece's artist, period, origin, the names of the various techniques used, why it was made, either knowing all that will make it more beautiful, because I will understand its complexity, or less beautiful, because I will understand its complexity. Will taking away the mystery take away some of the beauty? I guess it depends on the work of art. It's like with my brother and music. Music that is kind of simple, like most pop music, Will doesn't really like because the it is so trite and not original and simple. Because he understands music more than me, some of it is less beautiful, because he sees it for what it really is. For that reason he can't really enjoy, say, Ashlee Simpson. But at the same time he can more fully enjoy music than I can, because when he finds something really good, he can really appreciate it, because he understands it. He comprehends its beauty.

So I guess I'm just learning how to appreciate art.

It's cool how writing out stuff can help one work things out in one's mind. Like the whole last part of that paragraph I didn't think about until I started writing it. The first part, the part about art becoming just names and dates to me, I planned on writing, but not the rest. It kind of just pooped out of my fingers.

Oh, and happy Thanksgiving.