I was just lucid-dreaming and, in it, someone told me their brother made a sculpture out of trash to memorialize their mother (I’m definitely aware of the possible interpretations for this, lol). I concernedly asked this person, “Was it art or a mental breakdown?” And then I woke up.
I was just thinking, though, that the line between acceptability and unacceptability is so thin when it comes to art. There is so much room for interpretation. Maybe it was a mental breakdown (I do realize this was just a dream, y’all), but could it not have also been both?
In this predictably unpredictable world, there’s room for the mad and the simultaneously beautiful. There’s room for the mentally troubled and those who seem to have it all together. We just need to learn better ways of embracing them all.