Y ya que estamos con nuestro imaginario en L.A... Citemos un poema del carente de escrúpulos, Bukowski.
Han habido tantas definiciones de arte a lo largo de la historia, pero si me tuviera que quedar con una, escogería ésta...así de larga la explicación, ni más ni menos...a través de éste ensayo. La acompaño con un pedazo de fantasía textil de Isola para alimentar nuestra vista.
STYLE
Style is the answer to everything.
Fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous day.
To do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without style.
To do a dangerous thing with style, is what I call art.
Bullfighting can be an art.
Boxing can be an art.
Loving can be an art.
Opening a can of sardines can be an art.
Not many have style.
Not many can keep style.
I have seen dogs with more style than men.
Although not many dogs have style.
Cats have it with abundance.
When Hemingway put his brains to the wall with a shotgun, that was style.
For sometimes people give you style.
Joan of Arc had style.
John the Baptist.
Jesus.
Socrates.
Caesar.
García Lorca.
I have met men in jail with style.
I have met more men in jail with style than men out of jail.
Style is a difference, a way of doing, a way of being done.
Six herons standing quietly in a pool of water, or you, walking naked
out of the bathroom without seeing me.
