In the grand tapestry of human creativity, modern art often seems like an errant thread—a jumbled knot that neither Lord nor logic can seem to untangle. One might wonder if this peculiar genre exists solely as an elaborate joke, with the punchline hidden behind a wall of price tags that only billionaires can decipher. From bananas taped to walls to empty canvases, the world of so-called artistry sometimes feels like an absurdist theatre, where the audience is left scratching their heads, wondering if they’ve missed the memo. Spoiler alert: they probably didn’t.

Take a recent snippet of commentary that highlights the bizarre nature of modern art. One observer suggested that, rather than being presented with avant-garde masterpieces, we should simply gaze into mirrors at modern art museums. It’s a brilliant proposal, really. After all, what else could encapsulate the essence of modern art better than staring at our own bewildered reflections? The irony is almost as rich as the price tags attached to those bizarre installations. The next time someone purchases a piece featuring a banana duct-taped to a wall, let’s not forget who the real art connoisseurs are; they’re the folks who can hold their heads high and say, “I could have done that… if I only had the audacity!”

Let’s not overlook the so-called “creative process” behind some of these spectacles. One artist famously pocketed $85,000 simply by handing in two blank canvases and titling it “Take the Money and Run.” If that’s not a masterclass in modern art’s greatest ruse, then I’m not sure what is. It’s akin to a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, except the rabbit is a whole lot of confusion and a dash of mockery. The audacity of it all deserves a standing ovation, and yet it also leaves one wondering about the billions at stake in a world where literally nothing can pass as something if it’s paraded by the right people.

And let’s not even start with the recent creative wonders involving chickens dashing around in the name of “art.” If there’s a more grotesque combination of culinary tensions and existential reflection, I’d love to hear about it. Perhaps the intention was to share a profound message about life and death—though most viewers likely left with more questions than they came in with. Is it art? Is it entertainment? Or is it simply a nightmare in the art world, a ferris wheel of folly spinning out of control?

Unfortunately, amidst all this chaos, the actual masterpieces from history get overlooked. While Jackson Pollock’s paint spatters and Tracey Emin’s “My Bed” are lauded as golden standards, they merely serve as reflections in a mirror—mirrors that reveal a sometimes painful truth about the intersection of money and vacuousness in art. In a world where anything goes, we find ourselves wading through an ocean of sheer absurdity, wondering why we aren’t being asked to curate our own masterpieces from the junk drawers of our lives.

So, the next time you stumble upon a piece of modern art and find yourself questioning your sanity, remember: it’s all a charade. You may not be the one who lacks understanding; rather, you’re the wise observer, and the real joke is on those who willingly spend their fortunes to claim ownership of the bewildering and bizarre. In an age where art resembles a glorified scavenger hunt for a sense of self, we might be better off simply staring into our reflections, shaking our heads in bemusement, and waiting for the next absurdity to grace our walls—or at least the next banana to find its way into the spotlight.