Everybody has that feeling when they look at a work of art and it’s right, that sudden familiarity, a sort of…recognition, as though they were creating it themselves, as though it were being created through them while they look at it or listen to it…
The Recognitions, William Gaddis
Biblioklept 
Ah, well, just as I thought, it is merely a canvas with fuzzy black and murky red color elements . I held out hope that it was a statement of irony by MR of the relationship between artistic camp and big bucks. As old PT B once observed, there’s one born every minute.
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