The storm in New York never materialized.
The mayor is standing on Fifth Avenue with wind swept egg on his face. He scans the horizon, praying for the snowstorm that will make Armageddon look like a low cost Christmas party.
Finally, he has to admit it’s not going to happen. All he can do is ”fess up and face the press. They will slaughter him (metaphorically) and they do.
People are angry. They expected the worse, indeed had been promised it, fill their cupboards with extra bags of cheesy chips for the impending doom, and now they got much less than the worst, a few snow drifts at best. Someone has to pay.
We all over react.
Its part of human nature, which is why I never throw out a painting under the guise that its ‘bad’. It could well just be so bad that it’s actually good.
People have made their living on that basis, just ask Picasso.
As for good paintings, whatever that means, you can start looking here, in the warm environs of jimmykelly.ie
Stay warm and safe.