Are the most honest pictures the ones that eat you up with desire?

Are the most honest pictures the ones that eat you up with desire? 

Or are they the ones that repulse you, with their frank depictions of the worst horrors on earth? If you say that the best pictures contain a level-headed ingredient of both, then are you just to afraid to pick a side?

I hardly think that the best artists set out to entertain. If so, then how come the greatest depictions now, are merely portraits of someone real sitting on a couch? I had to buy a couch, and it was like buying a work of art.

There’s so much rubbish out there parading as something classically good. The difference between art and design,

is that art cannot be sat upon in order to prove its worth. I wonder if there are people who feel guilty about still striving for effective and aesthetically pleasing design, when the world is at war?

I think it was always the case, that some people understand that life is worth living,

even though we are such an imperfect species. And we have to go on. We have no choice.

A comfortable couch does not have to be a design masterpiece. And a masterpiece, in fine art, does not have to strive for comfort or support. - Fringe