I’m coming to a the realization that abstract and modern art is sort of like poetry. It’s not meant to be a complete and finished thought. Its purpose is to prompt the observer towards reflection and exploration of an idea. As with poetry, the beauty intensifies as you go deeper into the piece of art.
Upon a time, slaps of color on a canvas and obscure word orders perplexed me. I tried so hard to solve the puzzle and “figure it out.” But I got nowhere. I’m finding now that poetry and art are a lot less like tightly fitted puzzles and more like finely curated gardens that have many paths and ways of exploring them.