At what point in our lives does the value of art move from the process to the product?
When do our stick figures and newly learned cursive letters become an embarrassment to our elders and peers, rather than a gem?
Who decides that the worth of one technique is higher than another?
Is it fair to tell someone that the art they worked out from deep in their gut is a lesser piece than another man’s?
Note: First posted October 1, 2009.